One Day in Kuchinashi
by FanficFridays
Summary: A year after the fall of Beacon, Remnant remains a dangerous world. Still, life has settled into a routine for Junior Specialist Jaune Arc. Get roughed up, take orders, fight the bad guys, and have everything go according to plan... hopefully.
1. Chapter 1

_**Authors Note: This story is technically a sequel to a previous story of mine, Hung Jury. You don't need to read it to understand this one, but if you want to, feel free to.**_

* * *

Jaune woke up to a sword being rammed into his abdomen.

That kind of wake up call sounds very painful, and it was. To most people such a wake up call would be lethal, but Jaune Arc was not most people.

His eyes flashed open, but he was barely able to see. He could make out the only light in the room, a faint, white glow over his stomach, the effects of his aura protecting him, instinctively, from damage. It wouldn't hold out forever, though.

Forcing himself to move, Jaune spun around, reaching under his bed for Crocea Mors. His hand had barely wrapped its way around the hilt when a harsh blow struck the back of his right shoulder, breaking his grip and spinning him off the bed and on to the floor.

'I dropped my sword.' he thought dully, the world still wrapped in the groggy murk of sleep, adrenaline rushing through his body, trying to force it from its inadequate slumber. Even with his tunnel vision he could barely make out the dark silhouette of his attacker in the dim light. 'That was stupid.'

The shadow was smaller than he was, shorter, and presumably frailer, but its blade was still firmly in its grasp, poised to strike at any moment as he rapidly staggered upright, putting all the distance he could between them. There wasn't much.

The room he had slept in was small, and cramped, large enough so that people could stand more than a few feet away from one another, but barely so, and there were plenty of things someone in his state could trip over. Luckily, the agony of his awakening had slowed time to a crawl, and he was easily able to perceive and avoid such threats, while realizing his own error.

The shadow had a massive advantage at any range. Trying to run was only delaying the inevitable, its reach couldn't be escaped so easily. His only hope would've been to attack immediately, when it was close. It was powerful, but in raw, physical strength he could have overcome it, grappled the sword out of its grasp and pinned it. There were some advantages to being a male in the prime of his life, even in the world of Remnant. But now getting close enough to use the only edge he had would be nigh impossible, without taking several slashes in the process. Even if he could get closer, his assailant was too nimble, too cunning. It would never let him get close to it.

'But if I could make it come to me...' He thought. the voice in his head, the strategist that had saved his life on multiple occasions, an instinct he could still hardly believe was his own,spoke. It was a stroke of genius. Anyone could capitalize on an opportunity if it was in front of them, but few could create them from thin air. If he could plant a close range assault in his opponent's mind, make it think it was its idea, and have the shadow lunge at him of its own accord, he could salvage this.

He'd also have to get out of this room. The landscape favored his opponent too much. He was too groggy and clumsy to properly maneuver in such a confined space, while his adversary had no such weakness, the graceful angel of death that it was. The shadow was between him and the door, but there was a window directly behind him, large enough for his body to slam through. A plan, a devious, desperate plan, rushed into his mind, and he had to suppress a gulp, hoping beyond hope that it would work.

He lowered his guard, focusing on his torso while leaving his head and neck exposed. It was an amateur mistake, but not one that would be suspect from a victim that was delirious and exhausted, half awake and under trained. The shadow lunged, the length of its sword slashing straight for his throat. He lunged forward, grasping its arm before the blade could connect, and used its momentum against it, spinning his enemy into the window and out of the room.

The pair fell into the ground, shattered glass and dirt surrounding them. His quarters had been two stories up, and while not a lethal fall, it certainly wasn't pleasant. He felt himself wincing from the pain, even though his opponent, who lay damaged, but certainly not defeated beneath him, had taken the brunt of the impact.

As they were falling, Jaune had squeezed the shadow's wrist with all his might, forcing it to drop its weapon, which was flung more than a meter away. Not wasting any time, he grabbed both of his attacker's arms and pinned its legs and torso with his weight.

" Well done." The shadow said reluctantly. " Against a normal foe, that little gambit of yours would have ended it." The soft glow of a glyph burned on his chest quicker than he could release her and he was flung back, unable to counter her.

" I, however," she said, " am not so easy to put down." The shadow stood before the slowly rising sun, the first morning light illuminating her features. Cold, ice blue eyes were rounded by a regal face, crowned with snow white locks of hair that looked poised and elegant even when it was flecked with shards of dirt and glass.

" Tell me about it." Jaune said, wincing as he made his way back to his feet, gripping her saber, knowing full well that the ordeal may or may not be over yet.

Had Winter actually been out to kill him, he had no delusions of the outcome. He could only hope, with all his training, that she would work up a sweat. Even without trying to finish him, she came awfully close on a regular basis.

'Well, I'm awake now.' He thought, groaning internally as he saw a soft yellow orb peeking out from behind the foothills. It was just like Winter to wake him up in a 'mock' assassination attempt at the ass crack of dawn. His mentor, of course, looked as cold and unaffected as always, partly because that's just how Winter was, and partly because she, no doubt, had gotten plenty of sleep and preparation.

It wasn't the brutal training that got to Jaune. The suicide missions, the non stop drills, the relentless pushing of his physical, mental, and aura abilities at all times, or the scarcity of any kind of praise. That all came with the territory, and he knew what he had signed up for. What he couldn't stand, could never stand, was the torturous irregularity of it all.

Jaune could have adjusted if he had been told to wake up at 5 am, every day, for the rest of his life. He'd hate it, at first, but eventually it would become familiar, comfortable, second nature. Winter couldn't have that.

Instead, she woke him whenever she saw fit, however she saw it fit. She ambushed him, cancelled his meals, ran him ragged, and then would leave him alone for days. She had let him sleep past noon yesterday, so he should of realized something like this was coming.

Even in his rest he wasn't safe, eternally aware that at any point, any solace he had could be snatched from his finger tips. It almost made him long for suicide missions. At least when they were on those, Winter was too busy trying to watch his back to actively make his life hell.

'You must be ready at all times.' Winter had said, after a particularly brutal day in their first month together. ' Salem's cretins will not only attack when you're comfortable. Any time, any place, in any way, you have to be prepared, or you will die.' He had to stay on his toes every moment of every day, because if Salem didn't kill him, Winter would.

She walked out to him, extending her hand expectantly.

"Do I look like I have a death wish?" He asked impertinently, grasping her saber ever tighter. She sighed, a glimmer of approval in her ice blue gaze.

"The ambush is over, Arc." She said, in a voice that allowed for no arguments. " I order you to return my weapon."

Jaune nodded. Winter was many things, but she certainly wasn't a liar. He could appreciate that much.

She grasped her blade appreciatively as it returned to her hands. Then she turned back to Jaune. " You have five minutes to get whatever weapons and armor you can, before I attack you again. We're going to have a proper spar, now."

Jaune grimaced, but didn't argue. He knew that she had already started to count down, and he had no time to waste. As he raced back into the inn, he ignored the groggy glares of several unamused patrons who had been woken by the ruckus, and the shouts of the innkeeper, demanding to know what had happened to his window. That was Winter's problem to deal with, not his. 'Being the junior operative has to have some perks.'

He slipped into his armor, thanking Professor Port for his acquired selective hearing as the innkeeper, a shrill old woman, followed him into his room. He ignored her by counting the seconds he had used, knowing his doom was imminent.

'72... 73...' he thought as he slipped his chest plate on, donning as much of his armor as was feasible, knowing he'd need everything he could get. The innkeeper was getting uncomfortably close, so he decided now was a good a time as ever to pick up Crocea Mors. It wasn't a threat, not exactly, but it got the job done, and she backed away, hesitantly '86...87...'

It certainly wasn't the innkeepers fault that his supervisor was mildly psychotic, but he couldn't help projecting some of his anger at her, especially when she glared at him like he was Grimm incarnate. What sucked especially about this whole arrangement was that after this little stunt, there was no way that he was getting the inn's warm and well advertised breakfast, and he doubted Winter would make alternate arrangements. Maybe she would, considering they had a mission later today, and whatever else she was capable of, sending him into the field unprepared was beyond her. But it wouldn't match the simple, home cooked meal that he had been treated to yesterday. 'Damn it all.'

With all his armor and his trusty sword in place, he turned to his secondary equipment. His assault rifle, Lancer, sat on his desk, a modified form of the standard Atlesian model. Arrow, his pistol, was by its side. It was a pale imitation of Storm Flower, but it was an excellent weapon of last resort. A belt of tools and grenades was locked into place around his waist as he realized he had less than thirty seconds left.

He pushed past the bemused innkeeper and rushed down the stairs, desperate to make it out of the building before the time limit. On some level, Jaune knew he had to protect the other guests. It wouldn't do to have them caught in the crossfire. 'It's already going to be a tragedy, no need to make it a massacre.'

After 299 seconds he had his head out the door and before he ran out of time he raised his shield, knowing what was coming. As if on cue, Winter's saber slammed into his shield, right on schedule, deflected for only a moment.

Jaune focused on protecting his center throughout the incoming onslaught. He could block and parry most of the blows, but a few made it past his guard, nicking his armor and chipping away at his aura. Winter's strikes were so rapid that he could only manage the occasional counter strike, which never seemed to do much to her.

" What the hell do you think you're doing!" A voice screeched, cutting the melee off.

Winter turned, unamused, and Jaune recognized the high pitched yell of the innkeeper.

"First you destroy my property, then you wake my guests, and now you're waking up half the neighborhood with this damned racket!" She paused, only because she had to catch her breath between shouting. " Who the hell do you think you are?"

For her part, Winter seemed largely unperturbed. " Winter Schnee. " She answered evenly, as the elder woman cowed in recognition. " Specialist and senior member of the Atlesian Special Operatives Unit." The innkeeper stared, slack jawed. Everyone in Mistral had heard of Winter Schnee, and were well aware of her own skill and the horrible circumstances she was sent into. It wasn't good news to see her anywhere near you, and the fear of aggravating the stoic woman had silenced the crone.

" Any damages we have done to your property will be repaid in full. Any guests who want recompense can speak to me when I'm done." Winter withdrew a thin piece of plastic and tossed it to the speechless woman. " Also, when we get back, could you please prepare two large breakfasts? Huntsmen need to keep their strength up, after all."

The innkeeper nodded, before turning back to her building and rushing inside, muttering to herself. Winter scoffed, before looking at their surroundings more closely. " It appears we have an audience."

Indeed it did. Half the neighborhood and a good deal of the guests had come out to see the commotion that had woken them. Interlaced with the irritated adults were bright eyed children, some as young as three or four, who were eager to see a new spectacle. Kuchinashi was a rough town, but a sword fight in the streets was still a rare occurrence.

Jaune had used the brief interlude in their bout to collect himself. Winter had been dominating him the entire fight. Not that that was unusual, but it wasn't always quite this one sided. He had fallen back into his old habits with exhaustion, dropping into a defensive position rather than attacking, trying to find rare openings in her skilled guard instead of creating them. He had to fix that.

Winter was still momentarily distracted by the crowd, and Jaune capitalized on this opportunity, swinging Crocea Mors at her while she was off balance.

"Let's give them a good show."

The blade connected, knocking the wind out of Winter as she staggered back, reeling from the blow to her head. Jaune swung again, knowing he couldn't give her even a moment to recover. Several hits landed before Winter regained enough of her footing to start swinging back.

Their swordplay quickly morphed into a whirlwind of steel, Jaune sacrificing strength for speed, matching his strikes so they were nearly as quick as Winter's. He had to keep her off balance at all costs, and if he let up even for the briefest of moments she would regain her footing.

The crowd grew thicker, and it was difficult not to be distracted by all the 'ooh's' and 'aahs' as the Hunters danced, blades clanging in a steady rhythm. Winter leapt back, using the distance to re-orient herself before going on the offensive. She pelted his shield, his armor, and his aura with a flurry of stabs and strikes, nearly overwhelming him. But, being the weakest student at Beacon had given him the dubious gift of weathering far worse beatings than this. He could take a hell of a lot of punishment.

His various defenses took most of the damage anyway, although a handful of chinks in his armor were going to be very sore after this. Jaune was used to that anyway. He took a long, broad swing, forcing Winter back again as she avoided the deadly arc of Crocea Mors.

The two fighters stood about two yards apart, considering their options. Jaune couldn't use any of his ranged weapons, not without endangering the ever growing, raucous crowd. But Winter couldn't use her Glyphs either. Not most of them, anyway.

A glowing, black snowflake appeared on the ground below her and shot her into the air above him. Before he could react she had landed behind him and was already going for his exposed back.

Jaune side stepped out of the way, barely missing the tip of her saber as Winter went forward. He saw her begin to turn around, another glyph forming at the her feet as she held her blade for a downward strike. Summoning all his might, he swung his own parry, steel meeting steel with a terrible screech.

The force of the impact cracked the concrete beneath his feet, but Jaune stood steady, taking the blow in stride. The two opponents blades were pressed against one another in a ruthless deadlock, neither being able to overpower the other. A long pause accompanied the struggle, starkly contrasting with the frenzied battle minutes before.

Thunderous applause broke both their trains of thought, and Winter gave him the small, customary nod that indicated that the spar was over. He still waited another instant before he sheathed Crocea Mors. Better safe than sorry.

" You attacked out of turn." Winter said, not a reproach so much as a statement.

Jaune grinned sardonically. " What? Aren't you always supposed to be ready?"

There was a small uptick in Winter's lips, not quite a smirk but something akin to it, and the faintest hint of pride. It faded in an instant and the pair of them immediately went back to business.

" Meet me at the lake on the North side of town. Double time ." Of course. More training. This wasn't quite a day off, but their morning was largely free and the only times Winter gave her pupil a rest were when it was absolutely necessary for health or to lull him into a false sense of security. He actually preferred the more straightforward days. He knew what he was in for.

Jaune shook his head as she sped off into the distance, easily outpacing him. Despite the brutal training she had put him through, he was quite a bit slower than her. She was faster, nimbler, more skilled and more experienced than him, and was not afraid of flaunting that fact. His aura capacity outclassed hers by a wide margin, and in terms of raw physical strength he had an edge, but she rarely gave him the chance to use it. There was a reason she was the one in charge.

The citizens of Kuchinashi thought differently, whooping and cheering at them as they left. He could see the flicker of lien between hands, a few triumphant laughs mixing with disappointed groans. The cynicism of the adults was matched only by the wide eyed naïveté of their children, who had yet to be hardened by the city's cruel underbelly, and were excitedly pointing and whispering at him as he left, amazed to see real Huntsmen in action.

"Is that the White Knight?" One called out excitedly, a pale, gaunt boy, too thin for his age, asked. Jaune groaned internally. Apparently he had developed a bit of a reputation.

" It has to be!" Another cried, gesturing to his sword.

" I heard he took on an Ursa Major with one arm!"

" I heard he brought down the Crazy 88!"

"You mean the gang that ran the Bachari district?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

" He's the one who shot Mercury Black!"

Jaune rolled his eyes at the various rumors and half truths. He had taken on an Ursa Major with his left arm, only because Winter had broken his right. She had wanted to see precisely how much aura he really had, and she was very, very thorough in her 'investigation'. The camp they had been staying in was ambushed by a pack of Grimm, and he did what he had to do. ' Not one of my better days.' The guilty frown Winter had after that ordeal was the closest thing to an apology he had ever gotten from her.

The Crazy 88? Well... there weren't actually 88 of them. He assumed there had been, at one point, but at least half of them had been picked off in the chaos of the war. And taking on a few dozen street punks wasn't that extraordinary.

Kuchinashi was filled with hundreds of gang members, practically indistinguishable from one another, all desperately vying for a share of the infamous black market. The red light district that took up half the town oozed of blood and sex. Everything under the sun was for sale, and a few other things besides.

' Guns, drugs, dust, assassins, sex, people...' he shuddered. ' and information.' Almost all the missions he and Winter had been sent on came back to Kuchinashi, one way or another. In some ways it was peaceful. The Grimm were out in force, here as everywhere else, but they wasn't too difficult to deal with. It was easier to fight Grimm than people.

Salem's forces had left the city alone, for the most part. Probably because a good deal of them were from here. Plenty of people with loose morals who were all to willing to do an odd job here or there for a few lien, so long as there was a bonus for not asking questions. The hub of her recruitment, her supply and her espionage operations were located here. And so was he.

Ironwood, in his darkest moments, had considered obliterating the town, either by abandoning it to the Grimm or by blasting it to hell himself. Qrow and Winter, and occasionally even Jaune, had had to talk him down. Kuchinashi was too populous, and too strategically important. It guarded Mistral's southern border, and was still an industrial center of some importance, in the wealthier, western half of the city. Plus Salem's spy network was an excellent intel source to piggyback off of.

In the dim morning light, the city was almost beautiful. The gaudy neon lights from the eastern half of the city were turned off as the night crawl came to a stop, and the fires of the factories had yet to begin burning. It was quiet, sleepy, and peaceful. For a few moments in the morning anyway.

He slowed as he reached the top of the foothills just inside the bounds of the city gates. The walls broke their semi-regular shape to form a deformed ellipse jutting from the rest of the structure, to contain the bounds of Lake Gardenia. The town relied on it for fresh water, and not too long ago it would have been vulnerable to attack.

The defenses here were surprisingly light, just a few volunteer patrols. Salem's goons, for now, weren't dumb enough to poison their own water. 'Give them a few weeks.' He thought sardonically, finally coming to a stop as he saw Winter, who was standing in the middle of the lake.

He rubbed his eyes as he stumbled on that thought. But when he was done, she was still standing there, on top of the water, poised and aloof as always.

" Are you coming, Arc?" She asked pointedly, voice carrying sternly to the shore, and though he couldn't see, he knew she was glaring at him. " Or do you need an invitation?"

" I'm not exactly dressed for swimming." He said, which should have been obvious considering he was covered in heavy armor, for Dusts' sake, and the black, Atlesian mesh he had used as part uniform, part pajamas.

"Then walk." She stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Newsflash, Winter, I don't know how to do that." He paused, before continuing. " I didn't know you could that." You'd think the ability to walk on water would come up in conversation.

Jaune sighed, bored, and then picked up a small, smooth stone. He felt the texture in his hands, weighing it, before smirking slightly. He leaned back, readying for a good throw, imbuing just a bit of his own aura, and tossed it. It bounced across the lake, hopping up and off its surface before sinking inches before it reached Winter.

'Seventeen skips.' He thought, satisfied, years of summer days by the pond with his sisters finally paying dividends. ' And people try to say I don't have skill.'

" You're a Huntsmen aren't you?" She asked cooly. " Channel your aura into your feet and use it to repel the water, instead of as a toy."

Jaune sighed, before concentrating his energy at the soles of his feet, knowing that that was all the help he was going to get. 'Sink or swim.' He thought dully. 'That's Winter in a nutshell.'

He put his first foot forward, and then fell face first into the water, letting out what could only be described as a very manly shriek, thank you very much. When he emerged, his suit was soaked through, and his armor coated in a thin layer of algae.

'My morning's officially shot.' He thought grimly. The mesh suit was unfortunately absorbent, clinging to his body as it swelled with icy water. Supposedly the suit was to provide protection against small arms, but he was convinced it was a roundabout method of torture for soldiers on rainy days. He would stay cold, and wet, and shivering for the next several hours at least, and that was if he was lucky.

His armor was generally resistant to rust, but he hated having to risk it, and he would have to spend an hour drying it off after they were done.

'Better try again.' Winter said sternly. She would not let him leave until he had mastered this ability that he had learned of not two minutes prior, or until he had drowned in the attempt.

He crawled back to the shore, before reluctantly stepping in a second time. This time, his feet sunk in, but the rest of his body was buoyed by a bubble of air created around them. It was progress. 'Come on, stay with me!' He thought, watching as his thighs began to dip below the water. He focused, desperately trying not to sink any deeper. It was quite literally sink or swim, and the irony was not lost on him. 'Sink or swim... damn it Yang.' He smiled, even as he broke his concentration and fell into the lake again. Of course it was a pun.

He didn't think Winter was the type for wordplay, and she seemed to be reinforcing that impression, gliding gracefully over the water with folded arms and a very unamused stare.

" What are you doing?" She asked, flicking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, bringing it back into its nice, neat order. It was a nervous tick of hers. Most people would miss it, but Jaune had learned as a matter of self preservation how to read her moods. She was irritated.

"Failing, obviously." He replied, all traces of a smile gone from his face as he awkwardly shimmied back to shore, thankful that he couldn't get any more damp or cold. " It's my second try, what did you expect?"

" I expect you to get it right, or at least to do better than that." Winter said unflinchingly, ice blue eyes meeting his own indigo orbs. He sighed, crawling back onto the dirt before readying himself for attempt number three.

'It's not that different from the stone.' He thought, remembering how he skipped the rock using his aura as a repellent, and trying to create the same effect in his feet.

He kept his eyes on Winter the entire time, knowing it wasn't entirely out of the question that she would jump him again. He had to be ready at all times. She was unfazed by his scrutiny, features passive and eyes cold.

Pyrrha's patient tutelage had taken him from ignorance to competence, warm hands guiding him, coaxing him through, every step of the way. Winter, by contrast, had beaten him into shape, like a blacksmith shaping a piece of raw iron. Both of them got the job done, pushing him too and beyond his limits, but the latter was far less pleasant.

He struggled, his feet beginning to waver. Winter stood, close enough to help him, simply watching, waiting for him to right himself or fall, standing calmly the entire time.

Jaune wondered darkly how she would feel if she had been drenched, repeatedly, and forced to get back up with no help. The image of Winter shivering, soaked and thrown off balance, entered his head as he imagined her miserably inching her way to shore with her spotless white clothes freezing and clinging to her body...probably being pretty transparent ...

'No!' Jaune thought angrily, as he dipped back down to his calfs. ' You need to focus!' Ever since Beacon he had been surrounded by attractive women who beat the crap out of him on a semi-regular basis. He was not into that sort of thing, but it was his cross to bear, and if he didn't keep his hormones under control, he'd be taking a very cold bath again.

Jaune sent a huge burst of aura to his sinking legs, which backfired. He shot out of the water and a few feet into the air before crashing into the surface of the lake on his back, air knocked out of his lungs by the impact, which only let him sink in further.

He came up sputtering water, though thankfully at this point he was numb to the effects of the ice cold lake. Winter didn't bother to say anything. She simply strode across the surface of the water until she reached the shore and began lightly stretching, a prelude to her own regimen.

If Jaune were a bit more naive, he might take this as an opportunity to ease up on this exercise, and catch his breath. He knew better, though, certain that at least one icy eye was still looking his way.

'What did Ren always say about aura manipulation?' He thought dully, sending a burst of white energy to his hands as the pressed against the lake. Jaune hadn't figured out how to stand, but he could fling himself into the air, and that was at least useful enough to get him up.

" _Aura is the energy of the soul, and a pure extension of your self. To master it, you must master yourself."_ That was the tip. Ren had made it sound so easy, probably because to him, it was. The green clad ninja had always managed to keep an air of calm, even in the most ludicrous of situations. Maybe his system was custom built for it, semblance and all, or maybe years of exposure to Nora had desensitized him to all but the most extreme of stimuli.

Jaune recalled the advice vividly, having been desperate for any instruction at the time, having pulled aside his teammate in the JNPR dorm. As he landed, it seemed to get the job done, his feet hitting the lake, wobbling, before stabilizing. He tentatively adjusted the aura's intensity to counteract his instabilities, trying to recall more of his friend's help.

" _Stay calm, and stay focused."_ Ren had said, after Jaune had convinced him to lead the squad training for a day. None of the other members of the team possessed quite his level of finesse on the subject. Nora's Aura was larger, and by virtue of its size and user, more difficult to control. Jaune had similar problems, in addition to his remarkable inexperience. Pyrrha had come the closest to matching the ninja, but even she was unused to using aura for anything other than a shield or her semblance. Ren's Aura was substantially smaller than all of theirs, but the boy was able to use it at near perfect efficiency, augmenting his attacks and environment with calculated ease

Jaune had taken his initial failure much as he took everything, with a pained smile and a determination to do better tomorrow, although even nearly two years later he had yet to fully master the skill like Ren had. Pyrrha had graciously complemented the black haired boy, with some sincere awkwardness at not being the best at a given skill. Nora had whined loudly about how 'Not everyone can be as cool as Renny!' after her 48th failed attempt to make a dummy explode with her bare hands, lacing even her complaints with a degree of admiration and affection as her partner gave her an encouraging look. That was as close as she could get to expressing something else, buried down deep.

'The closest she'd ever get.' Jaune thought sadly, trying to break that train of thought before he began dipping again. 'Stay calm...' he told himself. Memories of JNPR were bittersweet, and he had to keep his emotions in check. He forced himself to allow the stream of consciousness to continue, as his focus on the aura at his feet made anything other than a wondering mind difficult, and jarring himself away from painful thoughts would only break his concentration.

Much had changed since Jaune had forged his transcripts into Beacon. He wasn't the same wide eyed kid who had never seen a Grimm and had no idea what Aura even was. He had loved and lost, and seen his fair share of death and then some. Even dealt it out more often than he would have liked. Had he known a fraction of reality he was walking into, would he still have boarded that fateful airship to Beacon? 'Probably.' He thought dully. ' Isn't this what I always wanted?'. In a away, yes, it was. A powerful Huntsmen fighting against the forces of darkness.

Whatever pain it had caused him, Jaune wouldn't trade his choice that day for a comfortable life back in Vale. His time at Beacon had given him friends, who taught him how to fight, and gave him a reason to. Maybe things would have been better had he stayed with his family, but maybe not. He liked to think he had made a difference.

He had forged bonds with people he would never have imagined. Ren had been the brother he never had. Pyrrha was his mentor and confidant, and maybe something more if hadn't been so blind. Nora was... Nora. No adjective did the vivacious valkyrie justice.

Of course, there were others, friends that still lived on, but had been torn from him all the same. RWBY,SSSN and CFVY were out in Menagerie, fighting a ruthless guerilla war against the forces of the White Fang. His family was back in Vale, safe and sound and further away than ever.

The constant moving around had prevented him from getting to close to any other teams, so in effect the only real companions he had were Ironwood, Qrow and Winter.

Some would say it was surreal to be on friendly terms with the most powerful man in the world, but 'friendly terms' was perhaps a bit to generous. They were acquainted, although for a man as soul crushingly busy as Ironwood that was unusual.

Jaune had known far too much when he was brought in, and this was dealt with by immediately inducting him into the inner circle. He and Winter were some of the trusted few who knew about Salem, and the real source of the recent mayhem. That of course made direct contact with the General himself necessary for all those missions that were too sensitive for all but a handful. By circumstance, Jaune was among that trusted few.

He trusted the General too, more or less. He had seen plenty of glimpses of the man behind the iron mask. It was hard to think of the man as heartless after seeing him wince at every casualty report, grimace every time a town went dark and frown whenever another protester called him a tyrant. He certainly straddled that line, but it was hard to fault a man who had the entire world on his shoulders. Losing your closest friends and allies while watching nations tear themselves apart and then being expected to pick up the pieces alone was rough. Jaune could sympathize.

Qrow was... Qrow. The two had always rubbed each other the wrong way. Jaune supposed it was only natural. Qrow and Ironwood were frequently at loggerheads so if one of them liked him the other was bound not to.

That, and Jaune was too close to Qrow's nieces for his liking. He'd insisted that it didn't bother him, that Yang was old enough to take care of herself and Ruby could be buddies with whoever she liked, but the way he kept happily reminding Jaune how Taiyang would tear him to pieces if he pulled anything with either of them didn't help his case.

In the end they tolerated each other. They worked together well enough, and much of their sniping had mellowed into something resembling banter, mainly by necessity. Qrow was his best friends' uncle and Winter's ... associate, so the two of them had to make nice. Still, Jaune was happy to let Winter deal with the man as much as she wanted, eager to give them plenty of 'private time' if it meant ribbing Qrow and being spared his presence.

And then there was Winter. He looked over at her and saw the white haired warrior moving through her sword forms, sparing him only the occasional glance. He then looked down at his feet, which were covered in a faint, shimmering white glow and comfortably above the surface. The 'stream of consciousness' had translated into a steady flow of energy, and his feet had stayed comfortably above the water.

Jaune took an experimental step forward, and was buoyed upward. It was different than walking on dry land, but it still felt familiar, with his feet sinking slightly into the surface like it was a giant, wet mattress. Not certain as to what exactly Winter expected him to do at this point, Jaune began pacing in a rough circle, waiting for her to hurry up, notice him, and point out whatever inevitable flaws there were in his technique.

Winter was an excellent teacher, and a total hard ass. Her praise was faint and her tongue was sharp, leaving no room for error, and no tolerance for failure. Excellence was expected, demanded, and if he ever forgot it she had no qualms about reminding him, painfully.

Not that he was complaining about it. She was a miracle worker. He was walking on water! How many minutes ago had he not know that that was a thing? 40, maybe 45? She had taught how to shoot a rifle, how to lead a platoon, how to use dust... or at least make some AWESOME explosions ( because when it's man vs monster, dust is the great equalizer), and how to navigate the Atlesian Bureaucracy without making a complete ass of himself.

But it wasn't good enough. He wasn't near her level. He sighed, before looking over at her again. By this time she had finished her exercises and was coldly observing him.

From a distance, she almost looked like Weiss. The same hair, the same style, the same poise, the same pride, the same ethereal beauty, and the same cool distance. But, upon closer inspection, there were obvious differences. Winter was stronger, and though it was subtler, her pride ran even deeper than Weiss's, as did her temper. Winter was very rarely truly angry, but when she was, it was terrifying. Jaune still had nightmares about the last time he had really gotten under her skin, though these were far from the worst terrors his dreamscape could conjure up. Compared to most of his inner demons, a flushed, screaming Winter Schnee was a pleasant respite.

He was still far too weak. He had been so excited when he had finally started catching up to his comrades, finally able to fight side beside as a valuable member of JNPR, of RNJR, of JWRY.

Now he knew better. Next to the likes James Ironwood, Qrow Branwen and Winter Schnee, he was still the runt of the litter. Salem's forces had titans all their own, and the average Huntsman was only a pawn on the chessboard.

Still, pawn or not, he would at least try to make himself useful. Like it or not, wars couldn't be won without them.

"Hey, Winter!?" He called out, waving his hands in an attempt to get her attention. " I did it! What's next."

" Come here." She said, unmoved. A slightly arched brow was the only visible sign of her beckoning him over.

"Alright." He replied, preparing for anything as he approached the shore. Winter stood, unmoving, eyes on his feet the entire time.

"Are you tired?" She asked.

That caught Jaune off guard. Why on Earth would he be tired. "Maybe a little..." He said weakly. " You woke me up at the ass crack of dawn, and I haven't eaten yet." His stomach growled slightly, as if to prove his point.

Winter paused, and gave him a long, hard look. Then she sighed. " Dismissed Arc. You have the rest of the morning off." She then looked over his waterlogged form. " Do try to make yourself presentable. Alpha Platoon will be at the Inn soon, and I'd like you to attempt looking official for once."

" I thought I was headed into East Kuchinashi with you and Qrow?" Jaune asked. "Wasn't this mission supposed to be kind of a big deal? Where we needed all three of us to take out the target?" Ironwood had kept silent about the details, but Jaune had gathered that this wasn't some regular mob boss they were trying to off.

"Change of plans." Winter replied. " Our primary target has a network of accomplices across the city, and Qrow's intel says that most of them will be in one place today. You'll flush them out while Qrow and I take the leader."

Jaune shrugged. " Fine with me." Taking out Salem's foot soldiers was well within the capabilities of the average platoon, but if Winter wanted to give him the easier mission, so be it. It'd be odd baby sitting soldiers instead of the other way around, but he'd manage.

"Do try not to get killed." She said as he began walking away, heading back to the inn to eat and rest and salvage what was left of his day.

Jaune chuckled sardonically as he quickened his pace.

* * *

 **Well, I've been chewing on this one for a while now. Sorry for the wait, but I've hammered out the overarching plot I want to take, and hope to update on a more frequent basis from now on. Perhaps every friday (and actually live up to my username), but we'll see.**


	2. Chapter 2

When he got back to the Inn, the first thing Jaune noticed was that the window he had flown out of was already boarded up. The second thing he noticed was that the innkeeper refused to look at him. However, when he came back downstairs after drying out all of his clothes, a steaming hot plate was on the counter, waiting for him.

" Your... friend already finished eating." She said, seeming very interested in a glass she was polishing. " Left about ten minutes ago. Seemed to be in a hurry."

She fidgeted under Jaune's curious gaze for several moments before reaching under the counter. She pulled out several envelopes and passed them to him, before walking away.

The first was a large manilla folder, with 'classified material, authorized eyes only' scrawled in red on the front. Those were almost certainly the mission specs. He'd have to read those first. The other two, smaller, white envelopes were probably personal, and as much as he wanted to open them he had to put the mission above everything.

An old, dilapidated factory was pictured on the top of the first page, glass windows shattered, walls graffitied and machinery long since scrapped for parts. According to the report, its' owner had gone bankrupt decades ago after Dust had replaced more primitive forms of energy. It was smack dab in the middle of the city, and had been taken over as a hub for the black market, smuggling products from the less controlled Eastern half of the city to its more prosperous Western half.

Currently, it was under the control of a particularly vicious gang called 'The Cannibals', which he hoped was only a nickname. They had been coming up in more and more reports as responsible for the smuggling of dust and munitions out of the city, and linked to a number of disappearances across town. Whispers of them as puppets of Salem had been spreading across command.

They were usually spread across the city in their various dealings, but today a great number of them were gathering at their headquarters, for some ritual of theirs. Estimates were spotty, between 30-50 of them would be there, enough at least to cripple to organization permanently. One Atlesian soldier was worth at least 3 gang members in a firefight, but there could be a few Aura users to tip the scales. Winter could just be exercising caution by sending him along, just in case any unforeseen adversaries threw a wrench in there plans, but it still seemed like a waste, especially when their real target, Carib, was such a danger.

Carib the Cannibal had taken over the gang three years ago, and had eluded capture and death a dozen times. Rumor had it that he was Huntsman who had went very, very bad, and he was almost certainly a low level subordinate of Salem. He was dangerous enough to have massacred a team from Haven sent after him, and he was turning more and more of the underworld towards Salem's side.

And now he was Winter and Qrow's problem. They would lure him somewhere, on a fake deal for smuggled weapons. A mole within their own forces had been found out... and persuaded to play for the home team again. It was his life for Carib's, and really the perfect set up. Salem was devious, but she hadn't yet been double crossed by her own rats. 'Only an idiot expects loyalty from traitors.' Of course, their little triple crosser would probably be dead before the end of the month. He was playing a dangerous game.

' _We cannot afford to jeopardize the success of this mission, so stealth is key. Move the platoon through the city without raising attention.'_

Jaune sighed, the tucked the papers back in the folder. Stealth was... going to be a problem. He didn't do stealth all that well, and the average soldier was far from inconspicuous. Even now, he could spot them coming into the inn in groups of twos and threes, polished white and grey armor sticking out like a sore thumb amidst the common mish mash of cloth most denizens of Kuchinashi wore. Even one of them drew dozens of eyes, and the grapevine of Kuchinashi's criminal element was one of the fastest communication networks known to man. They'd tip off the Cannibals before they got within a mile of their safe house.

'Maybe we could go through the sewers...' he thought, stomach lurching at the very idea. ' Just try and enjoy breakfast, Jaune.' He thought, dully picking at a misshapen egg yolk.

He picked up the next letter, trying to take his mind off the potentially disgusting path his day was taking. 'From Nicholas and Amelia Arc, South Vale.'

Guilt replaced disgust, and he briefly considered tossing this letter aside, but thought better of it, and steeled himself.

The first few paragraphs were obviously written by his mother. Asking him how he was doing, letting him know that his big sister Violet was getting married. ' I didn't even know she was dating...', he thought sadly. That she would love it if her favorite little brother could make it, That he really ought to call more and saying that if, somehow, he could drop by Vale sometime soon, he would be more than welcome.

Jaune hung his head guiltily. He wasn't going home. He wasn't sure if their big, crowded house back in the Valean countryside was even his home anymore. He hadn't seen any of his family face to face since he ran off to Beacon. And now Violet was getting married. Poor, tortured Violet, who had to play referee to seven little monsters, when their parents were out. Next thing he knew, his mother would be demanding grandkids, first from her, and then down the line of her eldest children. Amethyst, then Ciel, then... him. She had already asked him if he had a girlfriend, and he doubted 'it's complicated' would satisfy her.

'Speak of the devil', he thought, looking at the name on the next letter with a small grin, before putting it back down, and finishing the first.

His father had written the final paragraph. He didn't ask any questions, didn't bother with any niceties, and his prose was devoid of the flowery language favored by his mother. Nicholas was a warm man, but rather quiet. He had been a Huntsman, but retired young, and rarely spoke about it, preferring to regale his children with legends of more distant ancestors.

' _Jaune, take care of yourself. War is hell. You're an Arc, and that's a blessing and a curse. This rotten business is our blood, and we have a nasty habit of getting right in the thick of things. Just be careful. I never wanted this for you, but I'm proud of you.'_

His father had been the least supportive of all his family members when he said he wanted to become a Huntsman. At the time, that had hurt, a lot. Now...

'Dad never talked about his team either.' Jaune thought. No old classmates had ever come over, reminiscing about the academy, or shared missions, or greeting their honorary nieces and nephew. And, every once in a while, he would get a far off look in his eyes, lost to the world until his mother's touch brought him back. Jaune thought he finally understood why.

'Someday' he thought, ' Dad and I are going to sit down and have a nice, long chat.'

" Hey Captain!" A voice called out, disrupting the other patrons at the Inn's diner, and Jaune was tempted to ignore it. He had a letter to read after all. But, for now, it was not to be.

" What?" He asked stiffly, looking up to see Private Connie Evergreen.

" Just reporting for duty, sir." He said slyly, clearly enjoying throwing his commander off balance.

Technically, as a specialist, Jaune was an officer, but he didn't exactly have a defined rank. However, when he tried to order his squad to evacuate a falling position against a Lieutenant's orders, he had nearly been court-martialed until Winter stepped in and said, as a Captain, he outranked the Lieutenant and thus could countermand his orders. No one was willing to argue with her and the rank had stuck. Of course,afterwards, she had made clear in no uncertain terms that whatever his rank was, if he disregarded her orders there would be hell to pay.

" At ease." Jaune replied, still uncomfortable. He was acquainted with most of Alpha Platoon, but they were Winter's men, not his.

Evergreen kept his lopsided grin and made his way over to the table in the center of the diner, where most of the soldiers had congregated. Most of them seemed to be enjoying the brief change of pace. Half of them seemed to roughly maintain discipline, talking amongst themselves in hushed voices. The other half were growing increasingly rowdy, voices raised as they laughed and shouted, disturbing the other patrons and occasionally flirting with a few of the female patrons.

'50 lien on who the newbies are.' Jaune thought darkly. He wasn't the only one who noticed. Lt. Church, the ostensible head of the platoon, was looking at half his command with thinly veiled disdain. The Atlesian Army had expanded its ranks vastly in recent months. They had to, otherwise they would be spread too thin to protect four different kingdoms. But the soldiers who had grown up as 'tin men', under the strict regimen of military life, resented the newcomers. At best, they were unorthodox, unfamiliar with the Atlesian martial culture and propriety. At worst, they were sloppy, arrogant and borderline incompetent.

The split wasn't perfect of course. A few soldiers he knew to be Mistrali were behaving perfectly fine, and one or two of the 'true' Atlesians, newer recruits, were joining in on the revelry, by the mold still held. The tin men resented foreigners who thought throwing on an Atlesian uniform made them soldiers, and they especially resented those who deigned to tell them what to do. Which meant, to some extent at least, they resented him.

He could already tell this group was going to be a headache, but for now, they weren't causing too much trouble, so he'd leave them alone. If they stepped out of line, he'd have to intervene, and he really, really, just wanted to enjoy what was left of his breakfast without hassle.

"Beats the hell out of rations!" He heard a voice shout over the din. He nodded slightly, then tried to drown out their noise, munching on another bite of his meal before it got cold as he picked up the final letter.

'From Yang Xiao Long, Kuo Kuana' With a grin, he tore open the envelope and scanned over it's contents.

 _Dear Vomit Boy,_

 _Hello from the_ _ **wild**_ _island of Menagerie! RWBY is doing it's usual routine, kicking ass, taking names, etc. I'd love to tell you more, but I know command is reading these letters and we're not allowed to say anything that might be classified. Like the White Fang doesn't already know how and where we've pounded them... anyways, the weather's finally starting to pick up. I can talk about the weather, right? Or are the 'climate conditions' sensitive intel too?_

 _It's been raining cats and dogs for weeks, so a bit of sunlight has been nice. Anyway, Coco insisted that we all have a beach day, and since half the time we don't even know where the White Fang are, we went with it. Blake was feeling a little under the weather, supposedly, but really I think she was just being catty. She'll be better soon, which means she'll have a hard time getting out of it next time, assuming of course, that there is a next time._

 _On the bright side, we're right on Sienna's tail, and hopefully in a few weeks we'll be back in Mistral and the war in Menagerie will be all wrapped up. Unless you've been as lucky as we have, in which case Mistral's also tidied up and we can go home. That'd be nice. Back in Vale for a night on the town, you, me and Bumblebee._

 _I've put in some old fashioned pictures for your viewing pleasure. Take a close look and you might see something interesting, although you might want to take that tip with a grain of salt. Sea what I did there?_

 _I hope you're doing okay. I... we miss you, but I'm sure you're staying busy at least. Someone's got to hold the fort down while we're gone. Besides, I'm sure you and Uncle Qrow are getting along wonderfully. He's an acquired taste, but for an old man, he's pretty cool. Unless he gets a bit protective because he thinks we're... you know. I know still need to sort out whatever this is but... what I'm really trying to say is...You better not die on me Jaune._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Yang Xiao Long_

 _P.S. Ruby says hi._

 _P.S.S Please don't tell Blake I've been making Faunus puns. She'll be furry-ios_

"Damn it Yang." Jaune said, chuckling involuntarily. Her puns were terrible. ' I'll have to tell her, diplomatically of course, next time I write... letter down easy... dammit now I'm doing it.'

Jaune rifled through the ret of the envelope, pulling out three small squares of paper. Most photos were transmitted digitally, at least until the CCT went down. Now, having not seen most of his friends and family for months or years, he cherished the few physical copies he could get.

The first picture was rather simple, although pleasant. It feature a group of Huntsman standing in front of a fairly large house, posing for the camera. RWBY was in the center, flanked by CFVY and SSSN on the left and right, with two older Faunus, a large panther of a man and a smaller woman, likely Blake's parent's in the background. It was a nice picture, and to the untrained eye might seem like just a group of friends, perhaps commemorating the end of a nice vacation. Jaune knew better.

A picture said a thousand words, and was much harder to censor than a letter. The date on the bottom, from roughly a week ago, and everyone's presence in the picture, had one clear, subliminal message. 'We're all okay.'

Of course, they weren't exactly okay. Yatsuhashi had a rather nasty scar over his left eye, which was now and perpetually closed. Velvet was clearly favoring her right leg, and Neptune had a bandage wrapped around his temple.

Most notably, Blake, despite the radiant sunlight in the picture and the tanned complexions of almost everyone else, save for Yang and Weiss, who apparently burned rather than tanned, was unusually pale, with slight bags under her amber eyes. The angle of the shot almost concealed the cast on her left arm, although if you looked closely you could see patches of it exposed behind Yang's back, whose arm was wrapped around her partner for support as much as for the photo's atmosphere.

' Under the weather was an understatement.' He thought wryly. Still, it was interesting to see Blake after so long. Had it really been over a year? He flipped through the pile in his hands to the next photo.

'...whoa...'. For the love of the brothers, he could not, would not, let Qrow see this. He shook his head slightly, and tried to focus on the message trying to be sent.

In the background, he could make out Ruby eagerly trying to teach Velvet and Weiss how to make sandcastles. The rabbit faunus was smiling nervously, while the heiress had a clear look of apprehension one her face. Weiss's background didn't exactly lend itself to beach days, Ruby was crafting a large wall from a pile of sand, dug out of a tunnel by none other than Yang. That, of course, wasn't the problem.

The problem was the pose Yang was making while digging, smirking at the camera. Her outfit wasn't particularly risque, in fact, considering her usual style her choice in swimwear seemed rather tame, but never the less this was still a close up shot of her in a bikini. ' And she wants me to focus on the background.'

Of course, he thought as his face warmed up, she could just be teasing him. Every picture didn't necessarily have to have some message behind it, although he had a hunch that this one, in fact did.

The final photo was focused on Ruby, Weiss and Velvet, and their emerging metropolis. Weiss's attitude had shifted drastically as she pointed out where she wanted the other girls to place the next batch of sand. She had a sort of manic gleam in her eyes, and building sand empires was clearly something that she would never admit she liked.

In the background however, Yang and Coco were smashing something... the tunnels! That was why they dug out tunnels. The little sand city was Kuo Kuana, and the tunnels were the White Fang hideouts in the desert. And of course, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a very large tunnel off in the distance, out of Yang and Coco's range.

The message they were trying to send him was that the White Fang were hiding in tunnels and they had destroyed all but the last of them. It was quite clever actually. It would have been impressive had he figured it out, without already knowing the message.

Of course, Yang couldn't know that as an Atlesian officer, he had access to certain reports, or that he stretched the limits of his clearance to keep track on his old team mates, and their missions, but, hey, it was the thought that counted. 'Amongst other things' he thought, tempted to flip back to the second picture, before he stopped himself. ' Now is not the time.'

Instead he focused on the third picture. Hidden message or not, they seemed so relaxed, so carefree... ' I should show Winter this.' Ice Queen or not, Winter was still a big sister at heart, and she'd be happy to see Weiss enjoying herself.

'On second thought, I'd have to explain why I have a picture of her sister in a swim suit.' Not the best of ideas, actually. The better idea would be to put this away in his room and get back to business.

Alas, it was not to be. Pvt. Evergreen entered his peripheral vision and snatched the photos out of his hands.

" And they said I wouldn't do it." The soldier chuckled, glancing at several of his comrades with a cheeky grin . " So let's see what we're in for..." Suddenly his eyes widened as Jaune's fists clenched.

The 'pure' Atlesians were absolutely livid at the breach of decorum. Several of them were staring, stunned and slack jawed. Lt. Church was shooting daggers that could pierce through a Goliath's hide, but he sat still, teeth clenched, waiting to see what Jaune would do.

Pvt. Evergreen back pedaled out of arms reach, never taking his eyes off the photos, with a shit eating grin on his face the entire time.

" Well, Captain." He said. " I didn't think you had it in you."

"Private, put those down, now."

Evergreen chuckled. " Give me a minute to savor it, Cap."

Jaune forced himself to calm down. He couldn't afford to lose his temper in front of the platoon. He had to appear aloof, detached, and above the men he was supposed to lead. ' Is this how Winter feels all the time?' He thought, suddenly much more sympathetic to his mentor, if this is what she had to deal with.

As soon as he did calm down, though, Evergreen would have to be punished. He had to maintain some semblance of discipline after all.

" You do realize that stealing classified material is a capital offense, right?" A nearby soldier, a staff sergeant, according to his uniform, stepped in. " So's insubordination, for that matter."

" Well, good thing this is more ... personal." Evergreen said, shoving a photo in the NCO's face. " If you know what I mean." He said, waggling his eyebrows.

" I'm going to have to ask you to stop ogling my friends." Jaune said, strolling over, trying to maintain a cool facade. ' Lashes are too harsh... probably. PT until he drops? Not before the mission...'

Whether Evergreen was unaware of his impending doom or just committed to enjoying the calm before the storm, the trooper seemed to be in good spirits. He posed in mock disappointment.

" Oh, Captain, that's a damn shame. You really had me going there for a minute. Although," he preened. " I shouldn't be surprised. It's not like everyone can be on my level." Seconds before the inevitable metaphorical hammer dropped on him, Evergreen turned his head back to the photos and gestured at it with rapt attention. " Hey, Rojas... doesn't one of these girls look kind of familiar?"

Jaune grinned involuntarily. Evergreen must be looking at the third picture. The soul crushing terror the private would experience when he realized he was ogling Winter Schnee's little sister would almost be punishment enough... almost.

" Ruby Rose..." Rojas muttered in disbelief.

'... What?'

"How do you know that name?" Jaune asked carefully. Evergreen looked at the Staff Sergeant with open interest, and several of his squad mates did so as well, although more discretely.

" I don't know her personally." The NCO replied, nonplussed. " But she's met my kid brother, Lupus." The Sergeant paused uncomfortably before continuing. " Somehow the brat made it in as an officer on an airship. I can't believe that punk outranks me." He said, mockery hiding a deep sense of pride. Rank and status mattered, in Atlas especially. " Shipped off to Menagerie a few months ago, apparently with a team of Huntresses." He arched his eyebrows at Jaune. " Friends of yours, I take it?"

"Yeah." Jaune replied. " Small world, I guess. So, how well does this brother of yours know them?"

" He only ever mentioned Rose, sir. They don't talk much, but I think he's probably got a thing for her. One sided, I'd wager."

" Is that so?" Jaune said, while Evergreen's incessant mirth continued.

" And the plot thickens!" He said, cackling maniacally. A chorus of laughter from his fellow 'knock-offs' followed.

"Connie, you are on thin enough ice as it is." Rojas cracked. " I'm sorry sir, he's a replacement. Just joined the unit yesterday, otherwise we'd have laid him flat already."

Evergreen's antics, for the moment, were a secondary concern. ' Yang would be very, very interested in this little bit of information.' Still, he was a bit hesitant to share this tidbit. On one hand, the younger Rojas hadn't pulled anything untoward, otherwise he would have already been 'dealt with'. On the other hand, if he was anything like Evergreen...

"Come on Sarge, pull that stick out of your ass! Live a little."

Church, at this point, couldn't take it anymore. He stood up, pushing his chair back from the table, and stomped over, fire in his eyes. " If you keep it up, you won't be living at all much longer." Rojas stepped out of the way as the Lieutenant lifted Evergreen up by the straps of his chest plate. " Listen to me Private, and listen well, because I'm only going to tell you once. I don't know what rat hole you crawled out of, and I don't really give a damn. So long as you wear our uniform, I expect you to act like an Atlesian." He pulled Connie closer, until their visors were nearly touching. " In the few hours you've been under my command, you've shown a complete disregard for proper decorum, your comrades, and the chain of command. You're a complete disgrace to everything we stand for, and an irredeemable failure of that pathetic excuse for a training program they have for you knock-offs. The world's really going to hell if we're scraping scum like you off the bottom of the barrel."

Church sighed and dropped the soldier on the ground. Evergreen groaned as he slammed into the floor, then got back on his feet. " What the hell, man? It's not like I asked for this! You tin men plucked me up off the streets." Jaune was reasonably sure he was exaggerating. Recruitment efforts were aggressive, but not _that_ aggressive. He hoped.

Lt. Church scowled in disgust. " If it were up to me, you'd be dead right now." Evergreen's face paled. " Any self respecting Atlesian would do it. I'd have you whipped until you couldn't move, thrown you into the brig, and then have you strung up and shot."

Church then turned to Jaune. " Unfortunately, it's not up to me. What are your orders, sir?" The Lieutenant allowed a hint of sarcasm into his question, a small indulgence. No doubt he hadn't missed Jaune's own non-Atlesian background. A few details gave him away. The white jacket typical of the Specialists and Officers in the Atlesian military was far more worn and wrinkled on Jaune than any native Atlesian would allow, his tussled hair a bit too messy, his manner a bit too relaxed when faced with insubordination. As far as Church was concerned, Jaune was just another 'knock-off', a phony, a fake, who had snuck his way into somewhere he had no business being. It hit close to home.

'This isn't like Beacon.' Jaune thought, his face contorted into an emotionless mask. Any show of weakness would undermine his XO's trust in him even more. ' I earned this, fair and square.'

Evergreen was still on the floor, kneeling, almost begging for mercy, although his pride wouldn't allow him to ask. The other men, some of whom had just been laughing at his antics, looked away and did nothing. Captain Arc had him dead to rights and he knew it. A spark of terror was mixed in his eyes as he desperately looked at the friends he had been laughing with moments before. Not one of them moved a muscle.

Jaune wasn't used to holding some one's life in his hands, not against their will. Whenever one of his friends had given him that level of trust, he was always trying to save them. He had killed in battle, but this...

Church was looking at him, watching his every move like a hawk. Evergreen's conduct had been egregious, and by Atlesian standards he should be punished savagely in order to maintain discipline. Jaune wasn't an Atlesian. He refused to kill for something that seemed so minor, so pointless.

He sighed. " Half rations for a month, and latrine duty for two." The kid's posture loosened, and he relaxed, as if he had a new lease on life. Jaune had to maintain order, but he could afford this small mercy. " Don't push it, Evergreen. Most officers wouldn't be as forgiving."

" That's an understatement." Church remarked bitterly as the Private got back to his feet, and walked away, tail tucked between his legs as he desperately tried to blend back into the crowd.

" Would you like to add anything, Church?" He hadn't even started the mission and it was already falling apart. It had been months since he'd led a team, and that had been with his friends who trusted him implicitly. He had no idea how to lead people who openly disliked him. 'I have no idea what I'm doing: A Biography of Jaune Arc.' He thought.

" I wouldn't dream of it, _Captain_." Church replied. "It's not my place." At least the man would follow orders. His Atlesian pride wouldn't allow for anything less. Jaune looked at the clock, and sighed. 11:45.

" We head out in 15 minutes. Everyone get ready." With that, Jaune hurried up the stairs. He had to place the mission specs in a secure location, at least until the operation was over. Not to mention the letters.

When he came back down, the entire platoon was in full formation and geared up. 'That was fast.' Lieutenant Church was standing in front of the lot of them, looking very pleased with himself.

" We're ready to move out, sir. I've already debriefed the men."

" Good. Just one problem, Lieutenant." Jaune said wearily. " We have to sneak up on an enemy stronghold half way across the city. We can't walk down the streets."

" Sir," Church said " we have no bull heads and last I checked, there are no secret tunnels between here and the base. What are you suggesting?"

Jaune desperately tried to think of any other option, but, as far as he could tell, there wasn't one. " We'll have to go through the sewers. I've looked through the network, and there's an exit right into the factory."

Church rolled his eyes. " Like they won't notice 20 men crawling through a man hole in the middle of the street. " If a platoon marching would catch the attention of the grapevine, that little image would set it on fire.

" We'll have to find a less obvious way in." Jaune replied dully. Church still looked skeptical, although protocol limited his ability to say so. "Look, if you've got a better idea, I'd be happy to hear it." Jaune said. He had very much enjoyed breakfast this morning and would prefer to keep it down.

Church stayed silent, frustrated by his own lack of alternatives. He turned to his men and said " I don't suppose any of you know any secret passage ways into the sewers nearby." There were a few chuckles amongst the group, until a hand was hesitantly raised.

" Actually, sir," a familiar voice said, " there's a manhole nestled in blind alley 2 blocks down. Used by maintenance, mostly." It was Evergreen.

" How do you know that?" Jaune asked.

Evergreen laughed nervously, still shaken from his earlier near death experience. " I'm from Kuchinashi, Captain. Born and raised."

" Of course you are." Jaune sighed. It certainly explained a few things. "Lead the way then."

Evergreen paused, uncomfortable with being the center of attention again. However, a small remnant of his shit eating grin returned to his face, and he quickly rushed to the front door, rifle forward. " Move it people, we've got tangos to kill!"

"We might make a soldier out of you yet, Connie." Sergeant Rojas chuckled, while Church groaned despondently. " You heard the man, move it!"

* * *

The tavern was dark, despite it being just after noon. The windows were covered with two, thick screens that tinted everything in the room in a light yellow. At this time of day, the bar was almost empty, save for a few, sad patrons mulling about.

Winter would never have to come place on her own. She hadn't used to drink much period, let alone at this time of day, or in a run down bar like this. Before she met _him_ of course. Knowing he drove her to drink would probably just make him proud. Bastard.

Said bastard was lounging at the far end of the bottle, with his trade marked grey coat and a shot glass, half filled with some light brown liquor. He grinned in recognition before waving her over.

She sat down in the stool next to him, waved the bartender over, and ordered a glass of water. " Now is not the time to be getting drunk."

Qrow shrugged, before kicking back the rest of the glass in one fell swoop. " Who, me?" He asked, sliding the glass down to the bartender. " I'm just ... loosening up a little before business. This is nothing."

Winter was unamused. She turned the bartender, who had made his way over with Qrow's drink. " What is he drinking?"

" Kuchinashi tears." The bartender said. " Local specialty, 140 proof." Winter's eyes narrowed while Qrow swallowed another glass of that swill.

" Like I told you," he said confidently, " nothing."

" I think he's had enough for now." Winter said, and the bartender nodded, walking away to Qrow's furious protests.

" What are you doing?" He asked.

" It's not my place to argue with your woman, sir."

Qrow glared for a moment. " She's not my..." he then stopped, and then turned to Winter, who wore the smallest of grins.

" You were saying?" She asked. Either he said she was, and he would be sober, or he said she wasn't and she could finally put an end to his incessant flirting. It was a win-win, really.

Qrow sighed dramatically, before wrapping an arm around her shoulder. " You know, the 'lady friend' position isn't all fun and games." He learned in closer, smirking. " You sure you can handle it?"

" I can certainly stay undercover for half an hour." She said, rolling her eyes, without removing his arm. Forcing his way out of his grasp would only make a scene, and they we're trying to lay a trap, after all.

Qrow pouted, removing his arm from her. "Suit yourself." He said, before swiping her water and gulping it down.

Qrow had a special way of getting on her nerves. In the rigid world she had known ever since she had come out of her mothers womb, people knew how to behave themselves. Superiors ordered, subordinates knew to obey, and peers were professional. Qrow flaunted boundaries that would get most people thrown on their ass with nary a care in the world. He threw her off balance. She didn't like it, but like a moth pulled to flame, she found herself drawn into his presence more often than not.

She'd get the hang of him sooner or later, or die trying. Winter Schnee wouldn't tolerate failure.

"So..." Qrow drawled meaningfully. " Where's that other buzzkill you usually drag along. You know, blond, tall and scraggly?"

" Jaune is supervising Alpha platoon while they take out the Cannibal's head quarters." She whispered, careful to avoid tipping off any of the other suspicious characters in the bar.

Qrow sighed. " At some point, you're going to have to stop coddling him."

Winter scoffed. " I do not 'coddle."

" Sure you don't." Qrow chuckled. " You run him ragged and beat him within an inch of his life when you think it's safe, then send him out on grunt work the moment thing's might actually get interesting. How does that saying go, again? Nobody beats up my little brother but me?"

Winter stiffened, and Qrow shook his head. He should have known better than to have brought up family.

" Just wondering. It's not like I know from experience." Qrow had a far off look in his eyes as he stared at his empty shot glass. " I was always the brother getting beat on."

" I wonder why." Winter deadpanned. Qrow laughed.

" There it is." He smirked, insufferably, while Winter straightened her posture. " No one ever believes me when I tell them under that ice cold exterior, there's some fire." Qrow leaned in closer. " Of course, I actually prefer it that way. That little spark is all mine."

" What do you think you're doing?" Winter said, the faintest tremor in her voice.

" Just keeping up the act, of course." Qrow whispered. " These people think that you're my loving girlfriend, here to drag me out of the cold grasp of the bottle. Wouldn't want them to get any other ideas and tip off our target, would we."

"You're an ass." She said, flushed, tucking a stray hair behind her ear as Qrow showed complete disregard for her personal space. Again.

" Not that I mind the alone time, sweet heart, but why did you send blondie to the factory? The soldiers could have handled it, and our target isn't exactly a walk in the park. Might as well promote him and send him off if you aren't going to use him."

" How I handle my charge is no concern of yours." Winter said, wriggling out of Qrow's reach off and scooting away. " Besides, he's no where near ready to be a full specialist, and if I brought him here he'd just get in the way."

" Maybe." Qrow agreed. " But at least he could have taken some of the hits for us, put that big Aura of his to use for once. That's obviously compensating for something, by the way."

" Qrow..." Winter growled.

" His youth and inexperience, of course." Qrow said. " What did you think I was going to say?"

" I usually assume the worst whenever something comes out of your mouth." Winter muttered.

" Harsh... fair, but harsh." Qrow said. " Still, I've seen the kid in action. He's not on our level, but who the hell is? He's alright in a scrap and can think on his feet. That's more than I can say for most of the drones Ironwood calls Specialists." Qrow quailed slightly at Winter's glare. " You exempted, of course."

" Look, Winter." Qrow said. " He might not be up to your standards, but people are starting to talk. We need every Huntsman we can get, sending two specialists on missions that only needs one is just wasting resources. More and more of the brass are wondering why Arc isn't already on his own. Especially after that incident in the Bachari district..."

" That was a classified report!" Winter barked, having to temper her anger and volume to avoid the unwanted drunken gazes of those around them. Qrow shrugged.

" I hear what I hear, especially when there's someone who doesn't want me to hear it. Wouldn't be much of a spy, otherwise."

Winter could report him for this. Ironwood would almost certainly let him slide, he had to, but someone lower on the food chain would at least give the drunkard a good chewing out for spying on their own. She wouldn't do it. ' Maybe I am going soft.'

" So, what's holding you back?" Qrow asked.

" Arc has made substantial progress in some areas." She admitted, hesitantly. " But has stalled in others. He hasn't even unlocked his semblance yet." Not all Huntsman had, of course, but the more powerful ones almost always had mastered them. Aura control was great, but it was too rigid, too narrow, and too easy to counter. A semblance was a custom trump card that could turn the tide of battle more often than not, and she would be damned if a Huntsman under her care was set on his own without one.

" So what are you doing to fix that?" Qrow said. " Standard aura control training?" Winter sighed.

" Bartender," she muttered, " a bottle of your finest please."

" Hypocrisy, thy name is Winter." Qrow said, while Winter looked him in the eye coldly.

" We'll split it." She said.

"... Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Winter scoffed. " We'll split it after we've completed the mission, Qrow."

Qrow deflated slightly at that. "I'm still not quite ready to commit, though."

Winter slumped against the bar, readying herself for a long, sober discussion. " We did water walking today." She said.

"Aura control training." Qrow repeated. Aura worked similarly to a force field. It could repel attacks, and that repulsion translated easily enough when translated to other objects, say, water. Of course, water walking was and could only ever be a training exercise, for a number of reasons. For one thing, maintaining that kind of repulsion in one area of the body continuously required a level of focus and calm that was nigh impossible in battle. That, combined with the advanced nature of the training, meant that few people outside of elite huntsmen even knew the technique existed.

'It's still pretty cool, though.' Qrow thought, remembering the first time he had shown STRQ how to do it. ' The look on Tai's face after he fell in the water was priceless.' Of course, after a few days, they had all gotten the hang of it. Even Tai, the bastard.

" So, why the long face?" He asked. " Did he bomb that badly?" Qrow wished he could have seen that. It wouldn't have been quite as entertaining as lording over Taiyeng, but... it was probably a close second.

" He was at it for almost an hour." Winter murmured.

"Ah... that'd do it." There was another reason why water walking was almost never used for anything practical. Maintaing a shield, even without anything repeatedly bashing into it, was taxing, and most Huntsman couldn't go for more than a few minutes without exhausting themselves. Winter hadn't chosen to get off the lake when she did to prove a point, she had to get off, otherwise she would be far too exhausted to fight today.

"That's not even the worst of it." Winter continued. " After we were done, I asked him if he was tired." The bottle had finally arrived, a vintage red Mistrali wine. Winter toyed with it's neck, considered popping it open and filling a glass, before deciding against it. " He looked at me like I had grown a second head." She groaned. " What the hell is he?"

There wasn't much more she could do about it. Aura control was a finely honed skill, and there weren't many short cuts to getting it. She had tried all the ones she knew." He needs to have control over most of his aura before he can use his semblance, but I don't know what else to do to get him there."

" Nothing you can do." Qrow replied, taking the bottle and examining it. He wasn't exactly a sommelier, but he could tell this was an upscale brand, especially for a place like this. 'Nothing but the finest for daddy's little princess.'

" What do you mean, nothing I can do? It's the only thing I have left to do!"

"Winter, Winter, Winter..." Qrow said, trying to defuse the tightly wound specialist, " in addition to being a grandmaster spy and quite the dashing rogue, I've also been a teacher for over a decade. Trust me when I say you can't force these kinds of things. They take time."

He popped the cork out of the bottle with a well practiced motion, before Winter could protest, and filled to glasses to the brim, passing her one.

" Semblances are always tricky." He said. " Some people are born with them." He gestured to himself, " Some people inherit them." He gestured to Winter, who rolled her eyes, but let him continue. " And some people have to unlock them. Now, if you're aura's smaller, and, if you unlock it when you're young, then it's a pretty straightforward process. The less you have, the easier it is to control. Some semblances require more control, and some less, of course, but the principle's the same."

" I assume you have a point you're trying to make." Winter stated.

"Right you are." Qrow said. " Some people, like you and your sister, have semblances that require almost perfect control. Others, not so much. It's impossible to tell until you have it. Also, unless you unlock it while you're young and it's tiny, controlling your entire aura takes time. Yang unlocked her's when she was 11 and it still took her four years to master her semblance. Jaune's Aura's even larger than hers, and he hadn't unlocked it until he was 17, and you expect him to have it down already?" Qrow scoffed, not noticing the look of shock on Winter's face.

" Did you say, 17? That can't be right." Winter muttered. That would mean...

" He didn't have any training what so ever until he snuck into Beacon." Qrow looked into Winter's eyes, grinning ear to ear. " What, he never told you?"

" He told you?" She asked, indignant.

"Ozpin told me, after I started asking around." Qrow said.

" He knew?" She said, incredulously. " He knew there was a student in his school with no ability to fight and he didn't do anything about it?" Her respect for the late headmaster was dipping by the second. There was no way anyone responsible, like Ironwood, would let that sort of madness, slide. Maybe Beacon had fallen for a reason.

" Oz had his reasons." Qrow replied. " Besides, it all worked out, more or less. Doesn't change the fact that you're wasting your time. If that kid ever unlocks his semblance, it'll be in years, not weeks, and we don't have the luxury of waiting for it."

"For someone who bucks heads with him so often, you seem often interest in Jaune."

" Not by choice." Qrow murmured. "But, if he's going to stick around my niece, I'm not letting him out of my sight. Besides, it's in my nature, sticking my nose in places it doesn't belong."

Winter almost laughed in spite of herself. She had suspected something was brewing between the two blondes, although Jaune didn't talk to her much about that sort of thing. It was comical to see Qrow of all people in any kind of paternal role.

" Don't you laugh at me." Qrow said mirthlessly. " How would you feel if the brat was still going after your little sister? Then, someday, you'd actually be beating on your little brother, and I'd be laughing at you." Winter looked at him quizzically. " What? Arc had a huge crush on Weiss when he first met her. You didn't know that either?"

Winter's stone cold expression confirmed that. She hated being shown up by anyone, least of all Qrow. He shouldn't know her protege better than her, he hated him.

"We're are just learning all kinds of stuff today, aren't we." Qrow said. " I wonder how Yang and Ruby will react the first time they hear the name Aunty Winter. Or Weiss."

" Never going to happen." Winter responded cooly.

Qrow grabbed his heart in mock horror. " And here I thought we had something special." He took a swig of his glass, and Winter mirrored him, drinking much more slowly, savoring the taste. 'Qrow Branwen, alcohol required.'

" The only bearable thing about this mess is that Tai is going to have a field day when he finds out." ' The shoe is finally going to be on the other foot, and it will be glorious.'

" It's not like you to leave the fun to someone else." Winter remarked casually. " If you disapprove so much, why don't you step in?"

" Semblance." Qrow said, as if no other clarification was required. When Winter indicated that he was, in fact, mistaken, he elaborated. " I'm a walking bad luck charm. The minute I get involved in their little 'relationship'," he said, pantomiming scare quotes with his fingers while reaching for the bottle again. " he'll end up getting Yang pregnant." Winter scoffed at the notion, but Qrow was deadly serious, as if he was speaking from experience. " That or Ruby will fall for him too, and I'll have another big, awful love triangle in my life that I'll have to deal with." He downed another glass of wine, shuddering at the thought. " Yeah, think I'll stay FAR away from this one."

" Don't be so dramatic." Winter responded. "Your semblance is not that bad." Qrow scowled. Suddenly, as if to prove his point, another customer stumbled right into the bar, shaking it as he crashed and causing the bottle of wine to fall straight to the ground.

" Ah'm sawwy" he slurred out, staggering to his feet as he muttered incoherently. Qrow helped him to his feet, positioning them so they obscured the bottle on the floor, hoping against hope that no one would notice it had landed up right and in tact, and that no one had noticed the glyph that had appeared on the ground, making sure it didn't spill a single drop.

" Ah th'nk ah ad too much ta dr'nk." The man murmured. He was heavy, and he kept wobbling around as Qrow tried to steady him.

After making sure the man was seated in a nice, comfy couch where he could lie off his liquor, at 1 in the afternoon, no less, Qrow made his way back to the bar. ' And people call me a drunk.'

" Do you believe me now?" Qrow said, sitting back on the table, not missing the coy expression on Winter's face as she lifted the intact bottle and waved it in front of his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry, we're you trying to prove a point? I was too busy cleaning up another one of your messes to notice."

" That's why I keep you around, Ice Queen." Certainly not for her looks or personality, or those legs...

"My eyes are up here, Branwen." She said. " What was this business about 'another' love triangle?"

Qrow's eyes lit up. " Jealous? I'm touched. Let's just say I've been around the block a few times."

Winter swatted his arm while he reached for another drink. " I've already let you have too much to drink. We need to be ready to go, soon."

" Upset? My dear, sweet, lovely Winter, you didn't honestly think this grade A piece of man meat came fully realized into the world all at once, did you?" He said, noticing the faintest of blushes on his ally's cheeks. It was hard working her up, and the signs were few and far between, but he loved doing it. " I was quite the paramour back in the day."

" I'll believe it when I see it." She said cuttingly.

The bartender tapped Winter's shoulder and she reached reflexively for her saber. Qrow wrapped his hand around her wrist, stopping her. " He's with us."

" I hate to interrupt." The man said sarcastically, " but your man is here." A man of middling height, features obscured by a wide brimmed hat and a trench coat ( it wouldn't do for a wanted criminal to strut around openly in public) walked towards the bar, then stopped in his tracks as he saw the two Hunters draw their blades.

" Showtime." Qrow muttered, gears whirring and turning in his sword.

" Get the other patrons to safety, now." Winter ordered the barkeep, eyes not leaving their target for an instant. The man nodded, before grabbing a pair of customers and pulling them behind the bar.

The man in the trench coat stared, likely deciding whether fight or flight was the better option. Unexpected, since by all accounts their target, Carib was a violent hot head, but then again she and Qrow were an intimidating pair. Before he could make up his mind, the two lunged, before the man responded in kind, catching them both off guard.


	3. Chapter 3

The sewers of Kuchinashi were cold, dark and damp. Splotches of brown and green covered the slate gray walls in a patchwork of tangling blobs, and the acrid smell from the putrid green stream beneath them radiated up through the walkway right into Jaune's nostrils.

'I think I'm going to be sick...' He thought, gripping the hilt of Crocea Mors for support as he tried to focus on the relatively clean ceiling. ' Why did it have to be the sewers?'.

At the very least, they didn't have to wade through the muck. In white clothes? That kind of grime would never wash out, and he'd have to shower a hundred times before he could feel clean again.

" Hey, Sarge?" A voice called out nervously, " We cleared the sewers of Creeps weeks ago, right?"

" Of course, Colderoy." Rojas said. " For the most part."

" The most part?" Colderoy asked nervously. " What's that supposed to mean?"

" It means, rookie, that you should spend less time shooting the breeze and more time looking around."

Jaune scanned over the formation of soldiers that was advancing across the narrow hallway on the edge of the sewer. The new guys were, for the most part, hugging the wall, placed in the center of the formation. He could immediately pick them out from the line up based on the way they carried themselves, with jittery movements and an anxiously, staggered gait. On the edge and in the back were tin men of a different sort, the veterans, who moved slowly, calmly and steadily, occasionally bantering, but with their eyes up and their hands on their rifles at all times.

'Church is good at his job.' Jaune thought dryly. If anything did go wrong, the ones who would be affected first would be the most suited to handle it.

" Everyone, stop!" Evergreen called out, causing the march to come to a halt.

" Why?" Jaune asked, ignoring the grumblings of the men at being ordered around by some knock-off brat who had been on the chopping block less than an hour ago.

" About a hundred meters ahead there's a dead end, a cave in that happened years ago." He shrugged his shoulders, before continuing. " Water can still seep through the cracks, but getting us through without clearing the rubble will be impossible. We'll have to take a detour, circle around it." He stretched lazily, before leaning against the wall. " You know..." he drawled "planning out our route would be a _lot_ easier if you would just give me the map."

" You're not just going to try and take it again?" Jaune said.

" I don't particularly feel like dying today." Evergreen deadpanned. Jaune considered his options. Evergreen hadn't exactly won his confidence, but he seemed like he knew what he was talking about, and the sooner he could get some fresh air, the better. Reluctantly, he handed the paper over to the Private.

The soldier grinned. " This is much better." He took his finger and traced a course, skipping over a variety of turns and corridors. Jaune decided to trust his judgement. "If we stay on course we'll be there in fifteen minutes, maybe less."

"You seem to know these sewers pretty well."

Evergreen sighed. " Interesting place, honestly." He chuckled, " Back before the War, some of Kuchinashi's most _prominent_ families volunteered to build them. Used them for all kinds of _business_ purposes. Built a nice bunch of walkways to make it easy to get around, and access points at their favorite places, like this little factory we're hitting."

" Are we going to run into anyone?" Jaune asked. The last thing they needed was to be ambushed in route by some gangsters.

" Probably not." Evergreen said. " These days, most people don't bother. With the big wigs in Mistral off our case, everyone prefers to deal in the open. Of course, there are a few young, enterprising souls who do things the old fashioned way, but we shouldn't run into any of them, and even if we do, won't be a problem."

Jaune sighed. All it took was one person spotting them and they'd be walking into a hornet's nest. " Hear that? Everyone, be on the look out for civilians. Use non-lethal force, if you have to."

The group resumed their march and turned a nearby corner. Evergreen sighed contentedly. " I've got a lot of happy memories from here."

" What, did you play hide and go seek in the sewers, or something?"

" Hell yeah... sir." He added hastily. " Doesn't everyone?"

" I was more of a forest and meadow kind of kid." Jaune replied.

" Meadow, schmeadow." He scoffed. " You Atlesians don't know what you're missing."

" I'm from Vale, actually." Jaune replied, keeping his voice low.

Evergreen grinned at him conspiratorially. " I knew there was something I liked about you, Cap. Us mavericks have to stick together." Jaune ignored the overture.

" We all need to stick together." Jaune said.

" Sure thing boss." Evergreen replied nonchalantly, " It's just that not all of us have that stick up our ass to use as a back up weapon." He watched Jaune's face carefully, checking to see if his reaction was safe, before continuing. " Kind of makes a guy feel left out, you know."

" You'll get over it." Jaune said. " We all do, sooner or later." He paused, curious. " How exactly did you end up from Kuchinashi's sewers to here?"

Evergreen chuckled darkly. " I already said so, sir. Old Ironwood's getting desperate. Pressing every joe we can spare into his little army. One minute I was asked by some suit if I was unemployed, and the next they were shipping me off to accelerated boot camp. A month later and now I'm here."

" A month?"

" A month. Along with everyone else. Half the platoon's fresh out of training, sir."

'...shit.' Jaune thought. ' This just keeps getting better and better.'

" Were you actually unemployed?" Jaune asked.

" ...Yeah. Yeah, let's go with that." Jaune got the impression that Evergreen was one of the aforementioned 'enterprising youth' in the city, but held his tongue. It wouldn't do any good to ask now, and Evergreen wasn't dumb enough to admit it.

" How much did they manage to cram into that month?" He asked. So much of the mission was dependent on the fact that an Atlesian soldier was vastly superior to the cobbled together mooks that made up most street gangs. If that wasn't the case...

" This and that." Evergreen said, gesturing his hands as he turned another corner. " PT, first aid, target practice, small arm tactics, some jargon, you know, the basics." Jaune sighed, relieved. At least he had something to work with.

" Did they leave out the chain of command, or basic etiquette? Like not taking an officer's stuff."

Evergreen rubbed the back of his head apologetically. " Probably not. But they also only gave us five hours of sleep. I had to prioritize."

He stopped suddenly as a low, gurgling sound emerged from the water. " What was that?" Jaune heard it too, along with about half the platoon. The veterans rifles were raised an instant before three creeps shot out of the water and straight at the soldiers.

A blur of shots ripped into all of them, most bouncing harmlessly of the thick carapace of the dark creatures. The two, smaller beasts on the left and right were both slowed down by the hail of bullets, but the third, in the center was unfazed. It was covered in sharp, vicious spikes and had to be at least nine feet long. It lunged for Rojas, who barely managed to jump out of its way.

Colderoy wasn't so luck. He stood, frozen in place, as the creature slammed into him and knocked him against the wall, his gun clattering to the floor as he slumped over, wheezing. Another burst of fire captured the monster's attention.

Sgt. Rojas stood with a smoking barrel, bullet's bouncing off the Creep's massive skull. "Get up soldier!" He yelled. " Go for the eyes!" Colderoy scrambled to his feet and scurried away, trying to put as much distance between himself and the Creep as possible while he fumbled for his side arm.

The rest of the platoon had split into two, encircling the smaller creatures and filling their hides with a never ending stream of dust and shells. But, for the moment, the largest beast, in the center, was left just to Rojas and Colderoy, and so far neither of them had managed to do much more than irritate it. In a few seconds it would have the attention of everyone, but in those few seconds the two of them could be dead.

" Damn it!' Rojas groaned, staring into the creature's gleaming, hateful red eyes, preparing for the worst. Suddenly a flash of white flew past him and the Creep let out a shrill, unearthly shriek. It convulsed for several moments, writhing in agony, before it finally stilled, crashing to the ground with steel jutting out of it's left eye.

Jaune removed Crocea Mors from the corpse's socket as it began to dissolve into oily black plumes, adding to the miasma of the sewer with another rotten stench. Rojas looked over his shoulder and confirmed that the other two Creeps had gone down.

" Eyes up!" Church yelled. " Don't get comfortable! There could be more where that came from."

For over a minute, the group stood, silent. Jaune could hear each of the soldiers heartbeats, pounding furiously with a _thump_ - _thump_ - _thump_ that was amplified by the walls of the sewer and echoed endlessly in his inner ear. Finally, Rojas slowly began to lower his rifle, and one by one the men around him followed suit.

" What the hell were those things?" A soldier asked, still shaken up the ordeal.

" Creeps." Jaune said. " Creatures of Grimm."

" I thought that Grimm were just twisted versions of animals." One rookie said. " That didn't look like anything I've ever seen before."

The rugged reptilian hides of the Creeps were as unusual as they were unnerving, but Jaune had seen far more twisted creatures. Memories of the Nuckelavee, the creature that had single handedly massacred entire villages, with countless weapons hopelessly shoved into its body, and its uncannily deformed, almost human appearance shot through his mind. " I wish this was the worst of it."

Even the veterans looked at him with a measure of respect. Soldiers faced off against run of the mill Grimm often enough, but it fell to the Huntsmen to confront the true horrors of the night.

Colderoy reached down and picked off his rifle, shoulders bent in shame. " I choked." He muttered lifelessly. " My first real firefight, and all I could do was run."

Sgt. Rojas slapped him hard on the back. " Pull yourself together, kid. You got body slammed by a Creep and got to walk away. Not everyone can say the same." Colderoy muttered some small thanks, and then moved back into formation, subdued.

Church walked up to Jaune as the soldiers formed up. " Captain." He said curtly. " A word?" He motioned Jaune to the back of the line, out of earshot of the men. Jaune felt uneasy leaving the protection of the group, but acquiesed. He looked at Evergreen.

" It's okay, Cap! " The Private called out, remarkably unshaken by the ordeal, perhaps the least so of all the recruits. " I've got the route memorized. I can take it from here."

Jaune and Church fell back, settling into an even pace about ten feet behind the rest of the platoon, relieving the rear guard as the company moved forward.

" Captain." Church said. " About my conduct earlier... I'd like to apologize." He sighed, running his hands over his helmet. " I was out of line to talk to you the way I did."

Jaune grinned slightly. " It's fine. You should hear the way some of my friends talk to me."

" It's not fine." Church said. " It was unprofessional and a breach of decorum, and it won't happen again." Even in his apology, Church was still arguing with Jaune, but he decided against pointing this out. He'd just take the olive branch.

" We've all got a lot on our plates, Lieutenant. I understand."

"You can say that again... sir. Permission to speak freely?"

" Yeah... sure." No matter how long he served along side them, the level of formality observed by some of the Atlesian troops always caught him of guard.

" You were just the straw that broke the camel's back, sir. I lost half my platoon last week." He clenched his fists posture tensing as they walked. " I served with those men for years. Some of them even went basic with me. They were good men, some of the best. And ten of them got blown to hell by some make shift bomb made by one of Cinder's goons."

Jaune frowned slightly. Salem's name wasn't common knowledge amongst the rank and file. The organized uprisings across the world were instead often credited to Cinder Fall, the 'revolutionary' who wanted to overthrow the corrupt system of the Kingdoms. Whispers of a higher, darker power leading their foe did circulate, but only whispers. Jaune understood the desire to keep things secret, but maybe if people realized the magnitude of what they were facing they could put their petty squabbles aside and survive. At the very least, fewer people would go over to the other side.

" I get what Ironwood's trying to do, intellectually at least. Fill the ranks, unite the kingdoms, all free men under one banner. I get it. But, seeing those men die, and having a bunch of clueless imbeciles replace them, wearing their uniforms, claiming to be Atlesian despite knowing _nothing_ about the strength and discipline we prize, knock-offs, like _Evergreen_ ," he spit out, " I couldn't stomach it. Then another knock-off, with all due respect, comes in and assumes my command, and..." he trailed off.

From Jaune's observations, Evergreen was actually proving to be the most reliable of the new recruits, but he held his tongue. " I'm not here to stop you from doing your job. I'm just here to lend a helping hand."

" And I'm happy to have you, sir. With the state of the platoon..." Jaune nodded. At most, they were going up against fifty goons. 2:5 odds. People like Church, Rojas, maybe even Evergreen, they could handle it. Colderoy, and the others like him? 'Maybe sending me along was a good idea.'

The platoon came to a halt again as Evergreen turned a corner and yelled an expletive. " What now?" Church groaned, raising his rifle as Jaune rushed to the front of the line, Crocea Mors in hand.

He saw three figures, two young men and a young woman, hands up in the air as several rifles were pointed in their direction. Each's eyes were darting across the sewers, looking for an opening to make a break for it.

" Hey guys." Evergreen said, still at the front of the line and still very much nonplussed " Let's have a nice little chat." At this, the girl's eyes widened in recognition. "... Connie? Connie Evergreen?"

"The one and only." He said cockily, removing his helmet to reveal a mop of tussled black hair, an inch longer than regulation, and mischievous brown eyes that only accented his growing, lopsided, shit eating grin.

" Well I'll be damned..." The smaller boy murmured, while the larger one merely grunted, mildly displeased.

" Never took you for a tin man, Connie. Having fun playing soldier?" The largest of the trio, and apparently the ring leader, a large human, snarled. The smaller boy, a raccoon faunus, waved at him surreptitiously.

" Not really." He replied, unfazed. " But, you've got to do what you've got to do." He strutted over, leaving the mass of soldiers behind as he approached his old co-workers. " I suppose I can still call in a favor or two, though, right?"

" You've never been able to make me do anything." The boy growled. " Or do I have to remind you what happened the last time you tried to pull a stunt like this?"

Evergreen's smile grew, and he plucked a badge off the larger man's coat. It was silver, in a rough V-shape, and seemed to be a crude symbol of authority. He twirled it in his fingers playfully. " That was then, Rex." He said, ignoring the look of rage growing on the larger man's face, which, even in the dimly lit sewers, was obviously reddening. " This is now." He placed the badge back on Rex's coat, upside down.

From another angle, Jaune understood Evergreen's tactics. This wasn't just fun and games, although he was having the time of his life. It was a power play, a direct violation of the social norms that would bend and break them to his will, showing everyone who was really in charge. And,unlike last time, it was working. The girl and the faunus were struggling to maintain their composure as they watched their former leader squirm, mirth bleeding through their expressions. Even some of the soldiers had begun to chuckle, much in the same way a few of them had when Jaune's pictures were taken. In the military, that sort of stunt wouldn't fly, but down here... Evergreen was in his element.

Rex grimaced, as if Evergreen's smirk was a greater blow than a punch to the gut. " Why don't you just be a good boy, run along, and forget you saw anything? Ok?"

Rex whispered in a tone so low, only Evergreen and Jaune could here. " Why should I? Plenty of info brokers would pay a mint to know why a group of tin man are clanking around our sewers."

" They would." Evergreen smiled. " But you can't spend money from the grave."

Rex scoffed. " They won't shoot me. They can't even arrest me, not for long anyways." Long enough to salvage the mission, but that would leave them down several men on an already risky assault.

"Not if I don't give them a reason to, Rex. And you know as well as I do I've got plenty." Rex balked. For a minute it looked like he might toss Evergreen into the sewer, but he controlled himself.

" Whatever." He said, pushing past Evergreen with his posse in tow and maneuvering past the soldiers, heading in the opposite direction. " We were leaving anyway. Hope you get killed doing whatever bullshit you're doing."

"It was nice to see you again, Connie." The girl whispered, before rushing away and disappearing into the fog. Church turned to Jaune. " Are we just letting them go?"

Evergreen interjected. " Rex won't rat on us. I've got way too much dirt on him if he tries, and he wouldn't know who to tell. Even if he tried, it'd take hours to reach the right ears, and the others will do everything to stop him."

" Why's that?" Church growled.

"Because," Evergreen grinned cheekily. " they like me."

" What's done is done." Jaune said, interjecting. " We're only a few minutes away, anyway. The sooner we get there, the less likely something goes wrong."

Church looked like he wanted to argue, desperately, but he remembered his promise from earlier and stopped, nodding. Still, he wasn't completely tamed. " I'm glad your familiar with the smell of shit, Evergreen, because you'll be smelling it plenty for the next two months." With that he stomped away, back to his place in formation.

"What kind of dirt do you have that makes you so sure he won't talk?" Jaune asked, as the patrol began to cover the last stretch of their march, the within a few hundred yards.

Evergreen chuckled. " There isn't a man in Kuchinashi who hasn't done one or two things that they'd prefer Ironwood didn't know about."

Jaune turned to Evergreen. " You've made yourself pretty useful today."

"Useful enough to get back on full rations?" Jaune bit back a laugh.

" Not quite."

Evergreen's grin dimmed slightly. " Well, worth a shot." As they approached the factory, Jaune resolved to have some keep an eye on Private Evergreen. ' Perceptive, cool under pressure, a decent shot with a touch of charisma.' He thought. ' He could get pretty far if he just learned to behave himself.' The way things were going, in a years time Connie Evergreen would either be an officer or hanged.

* * *

The bowels of the factory were almost as dank as the sewers, the boiling room in particular being hot and musty. The thin layer of dust indicated that this part of the building had been untouched for some time, as verified by the lack of guards at the intersection of the sewer and the base. ' Sloppy.' He thought. Then again, it was possible that they didn't even know about the sewer's reach. The Cannibals were a young gang, and the factory was their adopted home, meaning that they might not know all the ins and outs, or be aware of the potential danger.

Unfortunately, they weren't so careless with the rest of their base. As they made their way through, the platoon ran into two lone goons, patrolling the hallways. A veteran soldier, Tucker, claimed to be an expert in silent takedowns, and had proved it, sliding behind each potential disaster and slitting their throats before they even realized he was there. The younger recruits had kept a comfortable distance, while Church handed him a rag to clean off his combat knife.

The factory was dotted with supply crates and old, broken down machinery that was too primitive to be scrapped. Four fire teams of five were advancing, circling around the central clearing to catch it in a pincer movement, flanking with the element of surprise to minimize casualties.

Jaune crouched on top of the rafters of the building, cloaking his presence as best as he could while watching the pieces of the plan fall into place. The vast majority of the Cannibals were gathered in the central clearing, in a rough semi-circle surrounding a short man, flail in tow, and a boy of twelve or thirteen, bound and beaten. ' Why can't anything ever be simple?' He thought dully.

From the way the others were looking at him, the kid was not a part of the gang, and that meant a civilian was right in their line of fire. Jaune's eyes flitted across the floor, trying to spot the few soldiers dotted around the edges of the base and at it's surface entrance while his mind raced, desperate to solve the problem in front of him. ' 35... 36... 37...' he counted. ' 37 targets, and one civilian.'

" Afternoon everyone!" The short man said genially, greeting his fellows. " I'd like you to meet the reason I called you all here today."

The kid glared defiantly as every eye in the room focused on him, unable to resist in any other way.

" This street rat here decided yesterday that he was going to go picking pockets." The short man said, idly twirling his flail as he slowly circled the boy, grinning like a cat, toying with its food.

"Now, there isn't much wrong with that. Plenty of us got our start that way after all. But this young man forgot the only rule of the streets. Don't take scraps from a dog that's bigger than you."

He paused, and then, without warning, slammed his foot into the kid's stomach. By this point, the urchin could barely move, but he still curled in agony from the latest assault.

" Right now, we're the biggest, baddest mutt in town." He grinned. " And we're going to keep it that way." He motioned to the crowd around him, keeping all attention on him and none on the danger lurking in the shadows, getting ready to pounce on Jaune's orders.

Over the raucous jeers and cries of the Cannibals, their second in command shouted "Quiet!", slowly dimming the the whoops and shouts down to a low, audible roar.

" We don't have the _illustrious_ history of the Kiryu's or the Burns'. If people are going to fear us, we have to give them reason to, show them that we are the men of the future. We're dealing with some of the most greatest criminal networks in the world, who have done things that most people couldn't imagine in their wildest nightmares..." he trailed off, a dark grin on his face.

'How much does he know?' Jaune thought, having borne witness to too many of the fruits of those living nightmares. Anything he could do to prevent more death, to keep those specters confined to the darkest recesses of his dreams, was of paramount importance, and he realized with some remorse that he was going to have to try and take this man alive.

" And when people see Roy Hui, top Lieutenant of the Cannibals, walking down the street, and their first impulse is to steal from him, they need to be taught a lesson." With a feral smile, he bent over and grabbed the boy by the hair, hoisting him up off the ground until he could look him in the eye.

"Do you have any idea..." He asked in a stage whisper, " why people call us the Cannibals? 'cause when the boss gets back from his little errand, he is going to give you a nice demonstra- what the hell!"

The shield of Crocea Mors fell from the ceiling and bashed into his skull, knocking Hui back, dazed. ' That's as good a signal to attack as any.' Jaune thought as he landed right between Hui and the boy, moving his shield in front of him before the stunned goons could react.

A salvo of rounds was launched at the distracted gang members from all sides, most scrambling away in shock. A few had the presence of mind to fire at Jaune, but their fire bounced harmlessly off Crocea Mors as he grabbed the kid by the waist and began to backpedal, trying to get out of the line of fire.

He stopped by the nearest supply crate and then took cover behind it, lowering the boy to the ground and slicing his restraints. " Do you know the way out?" Jaune asked, preparing to find someplace safe to hid the child while the fighting was over.

It turned out his concern was unnecessary. Without a word, the boy took off, skidding across the base at a rapid pace until he had disappeared into the clutter of crates and cast iron. " I hope that means yes." Jaune muttered, noting that at least the kid was running _away_ from the gunfire. 'If only I were so lucky.'

Jaune rushed back into the center of combat, assessing the damage. Most of the goons had been taken out in the opening burst, bullet riddled bodies scattered across the floor. The survivors had scrambled to whatever cover they could fine, an overturned work bench or a pile of debris, waiting for the few of their fellows not caught in the ambush to rush in and save the day.

Four of the gang members were rushing to scene of the attack, armed with cleavers and pistols and ready for combat. However, they were directly in Jaune's path. To get to his troops, they'd have to get through him.

He managed to blindside the first one, a slightly corpulent man with an engraved dust revolver who was straggling behind the group, sending Crocea Mors through his gut before he could react. The other three turned around in shock as Jaune prepared to swing again, narrowly dodging his next attack.

Another goon lunged at him while his comrades dropped back, pistols raised, ready to fire as soon as their man was out of their sights. Jaune raised his shield to block the swing of the man's cleaver before bashing said shield into the man's face and knocking him back.

The other two goons fired, most of their rounds ringing against Crocea Mor's shield. Jaune advanced forward, thinking that they'd run out of ammo before he reached them. A lucky shot went under his shield and hit his right leg, causing him to stumble. The shooter smiled, raising his gun to fire at Jaune's exposed body, but he caught his balance at the last moment and the only thing that fell forward was his sword, crashing into the man's chest. He tumbled back, light flickering out of his eyes, as another shot rang out.

Crocea Mors clattered against the floor as Jaune's arm recoiled in pain. The last goon standing had taken Jaune's thrust as an opportunity to shoot him in the wrist. His aura had shielded him from the worst of the damage, but the impact had knocked his blade from his hands. ' I dropped my sword again' Jaune thought angrily. ' That was really stupid.'

His shield deflected his enemies next strike, as he reached for Arrow with his free hand, raising the pistol and releasing two rounds into his opponent's chest and neck.

The goon who he had hit in the head with his shield was laying on his back, fumbling for his weapon, still dazed and disoriented. Jaune holstered Arrow and rushed to pick up Crocea Mors, before moving over to his foe.

With a sigh, he slammed his pommel into the man's temple and he dropped. It could have been a fatal blow, or he could have just knocked him out. They could use some live captures, for intel, but Jaune didn't have enough time to check, one way or another. Making a mental note to send someone over after the firefight, he rushed in closer.

Hui had fully regained his faculties, and was swinging his flail madly, forcing two squads back as he tried to advance, the length of its chain growing longer and shorter with each attack. ' He can adjust his range' Jaune noted, watching with interest how the chain left and re-entered it's hilt, presumably coiled up and released, controlled by some unknown mechanism. Ruby's lectures about weapons turned out to be useful on occasion; they helped him figure out what he was up against.

The ball at the end of the weapon was covered in long, sharp spikes, thrumming with a dark orange energy. 'Dust' he thought dryly, trying to approach the situation quickly before that ball could hit anything. The strength of the swings and the length of the spikes were enough to puncture all but the strongest of armor, and there was no telling what kind of damage the dust could cause.

He raced across the central clearing, sheathing Crocea Mors and reaching for Lancer; he needed range to end this as soon as possible. The other two squads were being rushed by the desperate remnants of the goons, trying to puncture their way through the encirclement, but Jaune had to let them past, trusting that the tin men could handle them.

Rojas and Church's squads were engaged in a dangerous dance with the Gang Lieutenant. He would swing at one group, forcing them back as they attempted to dodge; a risky venture with a weapon that could lengthen at will. The safer group would then fire at Hui, forcing him off balance as he either evaded or was hit, howling in irritation.

Hui was an Aura user, apparently, tanking several of the bullets with nothing more than anger as he inevitably turned to the formerly safe group, which was now in the hot seat. However, he hadn't taken very many hits, and he hadn't charged in like a berserker, so it was more than likely that his Aura was small, average at best, and couldn't take the up close fire of an entire squad at once. Hopefully that meant Jaune could end it quickly.

At fifteen feet away he let out a three round burst. Hui cried and turned around, before scowling jumping out of the way of the next burst. That of course, left him open to the squads fire again, and they began raining down punishment as he desperately weaved and ran, spinning past as many rounds as humanly possible.

Then, the unthinkable happened. Colderoy, the rookie, fired a stray bullet that went across the room and slammed into the last of the goons, who promptly crumpled to the floor. " I got one." He mouthed incredulous, stunned and motionless. " I got one."

So stunned was the Private at his first kill that he was completely lost to the world around him, and Colderoy made no effort to avoid the flail that crashed into his chest, shattering his armor before exploding into a fireball of smoke and shrapnel.

The blast knocked both nearby squads back, pieces of metal lodging into their suits and smog clouding their vision. Hui laughed victoriously, before leaping at Jaune and swinging the steaming remains of the flail at his head.

Jaune raised Lancer, and a loud, buzzing sound filled the room. The chainsaw on the bottom of the barrel earned it's name as it connected just below the base of the ball, lopping off the head of the chain in a matter of seconds. 'This was a weapon designed by Ruby Rose. It was bound to have a few extra features.'

Hui, however, was unperturbed by mutilation of his weapon, closing all distance between him and Jaune and punching him in the gut. Jaune was winded but tried to stand his ground, swinging Lancer with its saw roaring, but it did no good. Hui was hugging him, swerving around his body and staying out of reach of the long barrel and the revving maw of destruction at its tip. Lancer was too unwieldy in close quarters combat, and Jaune futilely tried to connect his elbows into the man's side as he circled around him multiple times.

Hui was clever. By staying close to Jaune, he rendered Lancer inoperable. Worse, by standing next to their commanding officer, he had protected himself from the fire of the surviving soldiers. ' Just shoot.' Jaune thought desperately. 'I can take the rounds, he can't'. The Atlesians didn't know that, and even if they did bringing themselves to fire on one of their own would be next to impossible.

Jaune prepared to drop Lancer and reach for a more appropriate weapon, like Arrow, or Crocea Mors, when a haughty voice whispered "Too slow." and a cool metal chain wrapped its way around his arms, flinging Lancer out of his hands and binding him, leaving him defenseless.

Hui smirked in savage triumph.

Then Jaune did.

Hui had wrapped the remains of his weapon around Jaune, expecting to disarm and incapacitate Jaune, maybe even use the officer's life as a bargaining chip for his own escape. What he hadn't expected was for Jaune to throw himself to the ground. Hard.

Firstly, this ripped what was left of weaponry out of his hands. Secondly, this threw him off balance, stumbling and unable to move any were near as nimbly as he had too. Thirdly, he was now directly in the line of fire of at least two squads of Atlesian infantry. Jaune wasn't.

The rounds went off instantly, slamming into the gang leader as the soldiers emptied their clips. Most of their first shots rebounded off his contorting body, but some went through. His left shoulder and right thigh burst into streams of red and pink as Jaune shouted "Hold fire! Hold fire!"

The men stopped as Hui fell to the ground,immobilized, bleeding and in agony, but still very much alive.

Jaune rolled around the floor as he extricated himself from the chain. " Rojas, Church!" He called out, trying to hide the fear and desperation that was creeping into his voice. " Are you alright?"

" I've seen better days." Rojas called out, as the Staff Sergeant put pressure on a chest wound of one of his squad mates. Four of them emerged from the clearing smog. Another five emerged further to the right.

" We're clear sir." Church said, his voice scratchy and strained, while still sounding remarkably stern. He turned to address his men. " Grif, Simmons!" He called out, pointing to two of the veterans. " Head towards the entrance! Make sure we don't have any unexpected company. Schwarz, take a squad and sweep the rest of the compound ! Do a rough inventory if you can, see what we're dealing with here." Seven men formed up and rushed out of the central clearing. " Alban, get off your ass and start treating the wounded. The rest of you, eyes up! There might be more of them!"

' I doubt it.' Jaune thought privately, scanning over the killing field and counting the number of the fallen, adding to his tally the men he had caught behind the supply crates. ' 35.. 36.. 37' he looked at Hui, squirming as a tall Atlesian handcuffed him, just to be safe.

"There might be another live one behind the crates." Jaune told him listlessly, and he nodded, before taking a buddy and marching over there.

'...38'.

Colderoy wasn't much more than a steaming pile of dust and bone. A few fragments of his equipment were scattered on the ground, torn and charred dog tags strewn ten feet away. Jaune walked his way over and picked them up, scanning them sadly. 'Pvt. Sam Colderoy, Battalion 17, platoon 8'.

He placed them in his pocket as Church came up to him. " What are our casualties?" He asked dully.

Church cleared out his throat. " Steiner and Beck are wounded badly, but they'll live. Broken bones, and some shrapnel buried under their skin. The rest of it's mostly burns, bruises and scrapes." He sighed, before letting out a grim smile. " I'm sorry for doubting you sir." He said. " Your execution of this mission was flawless."

Jaune starred out at the burned and broken bodies of friend and foe alike, at his hand, and by his order. " Flawless." he muttered under his breath, in near disbelief, and then he headed out to search the building, without another word.

* * *

" Please, I'm just a messenger!" The man in the trench coat cried out, quivering with fear as two full fledged hunters pointed blades at his neck. " You wouldn't hurt a messenger, would you?" he pleaded, putting his hands over his head and falling to his knees.

This wasn't Carib the Cannibal. His face was all wrong, too soft, too rounded, too sane. His eyes were the wrong color, and filled with terror rather than bloodlust.

" Then talk." Winter replied, edging her saber ever so close to his jugular. " That's what messengers do, isn't it?" The man nodded eagerly.

" Yeah, yeah, of course. Just tell me what you want to know and I'll spill. Just don't kill me."

"You seem awfully eager to sell out your old boss." Qrow observed. " Don't you know rats don't live very long?"

Winter wanted to punch the man for dissuading a potential informant, but quickly saw that it had made no difference.

" It's not like it matters." He said eagerly. " If Winter Schnee is after you, you're dead no matter who you are. No one's ever going to know." Winter was unmoved by another reference to her growing infamy, but Qrow was slightly miffed at being ignored.

Sensing this, the man began to pivot. " And that's not even mentioning ... you, what with your awesome cloak and that terrifyingly big sword of yours." He chuckled. " No man alive could fight off the two you. Such great, mighty warriors-"

" Cut the flattery." Winter said. The man closed his mouth immediately. Qrow pouted slightly.

" I was enjoying that."

" Of course you were." She muttered. " We don't have time to soothe your wounded ego. Just because he doesn't know your name, Qr-"

Qrow suddenly had a hand over her mouth. Winter was about to lash out furiously, but Qrow sent her a meaningful look.

The man in the trench coat was staring at the pair of them, listening intently, with only the slightest attempt to hide his interest.

" There's good reason why people like him don't know my name, Winter." He said. "You should know that." Winter deflated. She should have known better. Qrow couldn't be a very effective spy if his identity was widely known. It was bad enough that Salem's inner circle knew of him, and it would make his job almost impossible of rumors of his exploits reached the enemy's common grunts. She shouldn't have even considered saying his name. This is why she felt uncomfortable around Qrow. He made her let her guard down, let conversation flow too easily, made her ... relax. And that made her sloppy.

She shifted her focus to the man on the floor, pinning much of her anger on him, where it belonged.

" Where is Carib?" She asked bitingly. If their source had double crossed them again...

" He was headed back to base." He said quickly. " He was supposed to be here with me, to meet some arms smuggler for a big project, but he changed his mind at the last minute. He does that some times, you know, and it'd take a damn fool to stop him..."

"Why?" Winter asked, face hardening.

" Because he's a stone cold killer, that's why. I haven't stayed alive this long by pissing him off."

" I think she meant why was he heading back?" Qrow interjected, lazily shifting his weight so that his sword moved a little bit closer to the man.

" Something about 'striking fear back into the hearts of peons'." the man said anxiously, eyes darting between the two blades inches from his body, sweat beading on his forehead. " I don't know the details. He just got a scroll message from Hui and decided to cause some chaos, set off some bombs across town, and tear somebody apart back at base.

" Bombs?" Winter asked. " Where are the bombs?"

" I don't know." The man replied. " Really, I don't, I swear. He said he'd set charges somewhere in town, probably on a whim, he didn't tell me where."

" If you're so useless as to not know anything, why did he send you in his place?" Winter asked, a deadly tone entering her voice. She wasn't an expert at this sort of work, but she knew how to make people talk, and she would swallow any discomfort with it. Lives were on the line after all.

" I'm just a grunt, I swear!" He pleaded desperately, knowing the look in her eyes all to well. " They send me along because I'm good at calming down the boss, keeping him from doing anything too crazy. I'm good at it too, that's why I've lasted this long."

Winter began to move in, grabbing the man with her free hand while her saber pressed up against his abdomen. " I don't believe you." He was as still as a corpse, paralyzed, eyes locked on the sword.

Winter felt a hand on her shoulder, and took her eyes of the man to see Qrow. " Calm down sweat heart." He said. " He's telling the truth."

" You don't know that." Winter replied, not loosening her grip on the man, who was still as still as a statue.

" I do. I can see it in his eyes." Qrow said. " Trust me." Winter hesitated, and then let go, backing off. " I have a lot of experience figuring out when some one is lying to me, and he's not."

" Fine." Winter said dryly. Then she refocused. " We need to back up Jaune, now." She said. " He and the platoon are sitting ducks."

" Then you better hurry." Qrow said, reaching for his scroll. " If bombs go off, all of Kuchinashi is going to fall into total chaos. That'll make it a hell of a lot harder to get from point A to point B. I'll let the rest of our forces what's going on, have them sweep some bomb squads through the city before-"

Suddenly the entire bar shook as the earth rumbled, with a dull bang resonating through the air, making the hand's stand up on all their necks.

Qrow took a moment to look out the window, and saw a small mushroom cloud of dust and debris coming from the center of the city, near the provisional head quarters of the Atlesian presence in Kuchinashi, what used to be their police station. He also saw a growing number of confused masses, racing out of their homes and workplaces into the streets, either to see what was going on or to get away from the blast, forming an impenetrable mob.

'... Shit.'

* * *

"What was that?" Jaune said, as the tremors came to an end, and the blast faded into nothing.

" An explosion. From the center of town, from the sound of it." Sgt. Rojas responded.

That meant that the next few hours were going to be utter chaos. All of Kuchinashi's troops would be there, trying to assess the damage, and none of them would come to relieve the platoon.

" We should go." Jaune said. " They'll need every man they can get to control this."

" Captain." Church said. " Command just contacted me over the radio. Told us to sit tight, hold the base." This warehouse had valuable dust and munitions, although they hadn't found any intel sources aside from the two captured gang members. According to the low level goon, most of their 'big jobs' were off the record, given to them by some man in a lab coat who sounded a lot like Watts. Any more specific details were out of their reach, for Roy Hui had refused to speak since he had fallen into their capture.

" We can't sit tight forever." Jaune said tersely. " Hui's an aura user. We need to move him somewhere that can hold him before he regains to much of his strength."

Church shrugged. " I'm no expert," he said, " but I'm told Aura takes a while to generate. Even if we do get stuck here long enough for it to be a problem, we could just beat him every couple of hours, before he can get back to speed."

That didn't sit right with Jaune. Murderer or not, Hui was his prisoner, and there were certain things good people just didn't do to prisoners. He picked up his own scroll. " Specialist Arc to H.Q., requesting a bullhead to co-ordinates 2-3-5-9 for prisoner transfer ASAP."

A dim static was his only reply for several minutes, until he finally got a crackle on the radio. The voice that came out was not one of the usual CIC officers from Kuchinashi. " _Negative, sir. H.Q. just got leveled, along with two blocks of the city. Communication is shot and the bullheads we can control are all being sent to evacuate the area or prevent the fire from spreading. You'll just have to stay where you are for a while, we won't have anything to spare anytime soon._ "

Jaune grimaced. " Understood." he said, before putting away his scroll.

" Who could get a bomb that powerful anywhere near H.Q.?" a private asked, nervously turning to his commanders.

" Someone dangerous." Jaune said, thoughts instantly turning to Winter and Qrow. 'It's nothing.' He thought. 'They can take care of themselves.'

"It's above our pay grade to figure this out. Just watch the base, make sure no one gets any of this contraband out of here."

Cpl. Schwarz walked over to the group, squad fanning out behind him to join the rough defensive perimeter they had formed.

" What did you find in the cellar?" Church asked with interest. They had already tallied some considerable supplies on the surface, but the cellar had been the last place to be checked, and it was seemingly very big.

" At least ten tons of dust, of several types. Fire, ice, lightning, wind, gravity. Tens of thousands of rounds as well, and a few crates of rifles, military grade."

'Sounds like a warehouse.' There was no way a gang of this size could use that much dust. Salem's forces, however, needed fronts to get supplies, arm their troops, and due so in a way that didn't arouse suspicion. Piggybacking off smugglers and criminals was perfect for them.

" We also found this, sir." Schwarz said, handing him a scroll. " Blau hacked into it. It's a supply log." Jaune scanned over the files, looking at the figures and dates as his eyes widened. 'By the brothers.'

Hundreds of tons of supplies were being moved in the last few months. It was unreal, almost enough to field an army...

'Salem is planning something big.' Jaune took the scroll and added it to his kit, next to his own. Ironwood had to see this.

" There was also this... black stuff, surrounding everything down there." Schwarz said uneasily. " I got a little on my hands." He showed Jaune a thin layer of grime, and a nearby soldier shuddered.

" What is that?" He asked, horrified. " Grimm essence or something?"

Evergreen, who had been standing nearby, looked closely while the other troops recoiled, before guffawing, nearly doubling over as his laughter filled the room. " Oh, you guys are hilarious, " he choked out. " Grimm essence. Honestly."

" What is it then?" Schwarz asked irratably.

" Coal dust." He said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. " That's dust with a lowercase d, to be clear. Not the type take explodes and shit."

" Coal?" A recruit asked , confused. " Like the name?"

" No." Evergreen replied. " It was an old energy source, popular before the war, powered factories like this. Then you Atlesians figured out how to use dust to make energy cheaper and cleaner than coal every could, and it became obsolete. Drove half our factories out of business." He said simply. " After that, no one could be bothered to move it. It was worthless, and the only people using a lot of the space didn't exactly care about cleanliness. There are stores of it scattered across the poorer parts of town, in broken down places like this."

Jaune remembered Oobleck talking about the history of energy, back when he could force himself to pay attention. Coal was also highly flammable. ' And it's littering a town that's catching on fire.."

"Why didn't your government remove it ages ago?" Church asked incredulously, " Doesn't it make mass fires like these infinitely worse?"

" Every now and again." Evergreen replied nonchalantly. " But in order for our _government_ " he chuckled " to do anything, they'd have to have brains and be capable of rational thought. So, yeah, never going to happen."

The culture shock for many of the Atlesians was so strong that it rendered them speechless. To hear someone bad mouthing their leaders so casually, so acerbically, was unreal. They couldn't stop, or even reprimand Evergreen, because it wasn't Atlas he was criticizing, but never the less...

Church seemed almost relieved when the silence was broken and a distress call came over the radio. " _Lieutenant!_ " Simmons cried out. " _Someone is approaching the compound. He seems unarmed, but he won't stop._ "

"So make him stop!" Church called out. " By any means necessary! Do you understand me!"

" _Yes sir!_ " Simmons replied. " _For the last time, stop! I am authorized to use lethal for-_ " The radio cut out after a two sharp cracks, and a dull, gurgling sound, that of a man choking on his own blood.

" Oh my god.." one of the recruits muttered. Simmons and Grif were experienced soldiers. Anyone who could off them that effortlessly was someone they did not want to get near. Jaune prepared to jump into action, but Church beat him to it, charging towards the door and raising his rifle at the lone figure entering the factory, forcing his men to abandon their hesitation and follow after him.

At fifteen feet away he began firing. " Everyone stay calm! There are almost twenty of us and there's only one of him." However, the mysterious shadow closed the distance between them in a second, slamming into Church. He was unarmed, but that didn't stop him from punching his fist right through the Lieutenant's chest.


	4. Chapter 4

Within a second over a dozen rifles raised and began emptying hundreds of rounds into the assailant of their Lieutenant. Jaune couldn't even see the man's Aura crumble under the relentless assault, before he could react.

The battle was over almost as soon as it had started. Quickly, almost too quickly, the attacker and his victim had been torn to pieces and fallen to the ground in a shredded, dismembered pile of metal and torn flesh.

Jaune could only hope Church had been killed immediately, before his soldiers avenged him, before their bullets tore into his back. He hoped Church would have been proud of how quickly his men had reacted under pressure, greenhorns and all.

For a long moment, the room was still. Then, nervously, one of the men asked "... is it over?"

"Seems like it." Evergreen said snarkily. "He's not exactly charging at us."

" Don't sound so disappointed." Sgt. Rojas muttered.

Jaune sighed, and then found his voice. " Send another squad to the door!" He barked. "Five men, at least, and stay sharp!"

Schwarz, Tucker, and three other men he didn't know nodded solemnly and double timed it to the door.

" Alban... wasn't it?" Jaune asked.

"Yes, sir." The medic said calmly, too calmly, attempting to mask his unease with all the professionalism he could muster.

"... Check the bodies." he ordered wearily. " We have to be sure he's dead, after all." Jaune paused. " And... bring me Church's dog tags."

"Yes sir." The medic said, waving two men over to watch his back. It seemed preposterous to assign two men as defense against a corpse, but Jaune allowed it.

'We've already lost too many men today.' Grif, Simmons, Church, Colderoy. Of the twenty men he had been given, one in five were dead. And this was a _successful_ mission.

That was the nature of the war they fought. Every day they lost a bit more ground, a few more men, each of whom was more difficult to replace than the last. Over a third of all Huntsmen around the world had been killed, in ever more frequent Grimm attacks or assassinations or in skirmish after skirmish with Salem's forces. Beacon was lost, Shade was in disarray, Haven had been shut down and repurposed as a military outpost, and enrollment at the junior Hunter Academies was at an all time low. The Kingdoms were slowly but surely bleeding out, in a death by slow torture.

Meanwhile, Salem had a seemingly endless pool of malcontents to draw from, who required no training, no real organization, just a whisper and a nudge in the right direction. 'Kill, there, as many as you can, and then die'.

Each of her losses was just another pipe dream she didn't have to deliver on, another pay check she didn't have to sign, and another human she wouldn't have to deal with. And that was to say nothing of the Grimm, who seemingly became more vicious and more numerous every day. Humanity's defenders were being overwhelmed, and Salem's true prizes left ever more vulnerable.

' Who'd have thought Armageddon was a side show?'

"Captain!" Alban cried out, anxiously. " You're going to want to see this!"

" What?" Jaune said, reaching for is weapon. " Is he still alive?"

" No.." the medic stammered " at least... I... I don't think so." He sighed, and then pointed down. " Just look."

Jaune's eyes went to the floor, seeing the growing pool of blood. Then he saw it. Flecks of spectral black were spersed throughout the fluid, like a strange, oily gel with an acrid smell, the smell of death. They were the color of Grimm.

" Is that coming from him?" Jaune asked, suddenly feeling sick. 'Now is not the time to puke.' He thought, desperately trying to block out the sight of the mangled bodies, and that evil stench...

" Yes sir." Alban said. " I've never seen anything like it."

" It's Grimm essence." Jaune said wearily. " Are they mixing it with Humans now?" The implications of such a merger was unsettling to say the least.

" That's above my pay grade, sir." Alban muttered. " Anyway, he's definitely dead. Pulse is gone, and it would be quicker if I told you the number of organs he had that weren't shot."

"... That's impossible." One of their prisoners murmured.

Jaune turned to look at him. It was the man he had knocked out earlier, a grunt. The look on his face seemed to be one of sheer incredulity.

" No way the boss could go down like that. He was too strong. None of us could even touch him."

" Even the best Aura shield breaks under enough pressure." Jaune said. " And if he's the one who set off that explosion he'd probably already taken some damage, especially if he fought..." Jaune's eyes bugged out of his head.

" Rojas!" He shouted, with a deep terror that startled even the veteran. " Hail Winter and Qrow ASAP!"

"With all due respect, sir..." Rojas began, intent on reminding him of the chaos in the city and the near impossibility of secure contact with the command center in ashes and the airwaves jammed with emergency signals. But he stopped. The haunted look in his commander's eyes was not one of a man who one could argue with.

" I'll get right on it." He said curtly, before fiddling with the controls on his helmet radio.

Jaune would have done it himself, but he had to stay in the moment and supervise the remains of his platoon. The men were shaken, dazed and paranoid, glancing at their two prisoners and even at the riddled corpses as if they could attack at any moment. The grunt looked just as terrified, but Hui was just lying there, bound, but smirking.

Jaune knew he should be taking whatever meager steps to comfort his men, but he was too wound up to think of anything he could say or do. He began pacing manically, glancing at his people, at the walls, at the prisoners, and at Rojas, calling out into oblivion. " Specialist Schnee, do you copy? Specialist Schnee, do you copy?"

'Please don't let them be dead.' He thought, over an over, like a mantra that he could somehow will into existence. ' Please don't let them be dead. Please let no one else be dead.' He remembered every time he had carried a drunken Qrow back to his room after his nights of 'intel gathering', and the slurred obscenities the man would toss his way. He remembered Winter staring at him appraisingly as he collapsed after a training exercise, eyes taunting him, saying 'Is that all?' ' Please don't let them be dead. Please don't let them be dead.'

" Are you okay, Cap?" Evergreen asked, cautiously approaching his commander, who barely even noticed him.

" Specialist Schnee, do you copy?"

" _Dispatch crowd control in the southwest district, we need to keep civilians away from the fire! Send firefighters, send a squad, hell, send anyone!_ "

" _For the last time, you can't hail anyone through this chatter, it's like finding a needle in a-_ "

" _We've got multiple burn victims, send a medic!_ "

" _What did I just say_?"

" Specialist Schnee, do you copy _?_ "

" _Somebody get that fucking idiot off the air!_ "

" _... This is Specialist Schnee._ "

Jaune relaxed, then locked his own earpiece onto her channel.

"Oh, Winter, thank God, I thought..."

" _Jaune,_ " she said forcefully, immediately letting him know something was wrong. She never called him by first name on the radio, or in any official capacity. She was always prim and proper, not a hair out of place, with perfect attention to decorum. This was a major slip.

" _I need you to listen to me. My target was not where he was supposed to be and he is headed for you right now. I'm headed to your location but I need you to stay on guard. He could arrive at any moment._ "

"... About that..." Jaune could practically hear Winter's eyes narrowing.

" _What?_ "

Jaune turned to the corpse, looked away, and then looked back again just to be sure. " We've already taken care of him."

" _...How?_ "

" He put himself right in the line of fire of 16 soldiers. Aura didn't even last a second."

" _Is that so?_ " A voice interjected, suavely derisive. " _A gangster Command thought was so dangerous they sent not one, but two elite huntsmen to take him out just waltzes into a group of highly trained soldiers to die? Yeah right._ "

" Highly trained" Jaune began, " is a bit of a stretch Q-" Jaune cut himself off. He didn't know who was listening. Qrow insisted that while Salem and her inner circle knew his name, she wasn't likely to share that information, or any information, with most low level grunts who didn't even know who they were serving. He didn't want any thugs in Kuchinashi to be able to match his face or voice or job with his name. It made moving among them in seedy bars a bit easier. Jaune thought he was full of himself, but he didn't need another reason for Qrow to kick his ass.

" Anyway," he continued. " it happened, and it's not the only thing that's weird today."

" _...I'm listening._ "

" These guys were moving dust, and weapons, lots of them, for months."

" _How much?_ "

" Enough to keep a few of old man Schnee's mines in business. Even more than the White Fang did before... I'd bet my last lien that the Cannibals weren't the only ones either. The black market is massive and it'd be harder to track Dust movement if it was being purchased through several sources. You know who is planning something. Something big."

Qrow swore harshly and creatively enough to make soldiers blush. " _Oh, that is just perfect! James is going to run me ragged for months! Any other news to brighten our day, sunshine?_ "

" Yeah, actually." Jaune said wearily. " The target's blood was filled with the essence of Grimm."

The radio went silent.

" _... That's not possible._ " Winter muttered.

" I didn't believe it either, but its true. I'd recognize it anywhere." Jaune shuddered. " And it's definitely coming from him. Our medic checked the body. Right, Alban?"

" Sir, yes sir." The medic said. " No containers it could be leaking from. No pulse, no crazy weapons, and no explosives on the body."

" You checked for explosives?" Jaune asked incredulously.

" This is the guy who blew up a good chunk of our infrastructure in town. Shot in the dark, maybe he had a suicide charge?"

".. Good call."

" _Well,_ " Qrow started, " _at least one of you has a working brain._ "

Jaune winced but didn't say anything. He wasn't in the mood for bickering.

Alban tapped him on the shoulder, jingling something in front of his eyes.

"You wanted these, sir?"

Jaune reached out slowly and grasped the chain in his palms. He stared softly at the engraving on the cool surface of the metal. "Lt. Leonard Church, Battalion 17, platoon 8."

" _This raises a lot of questions._ " Winter muttered, oblivious to her protege's state. " _And none of them have pleasant answers. How was anyone able to preserve Grimm Essence after a creature's death long enough to use it? How is it in the hands of common criminals, and how could said criminals merge it with a human body?_ " Grimm's only purpose was to annihilate mankind. A hybrid of the two seemed like a perversion of nature.

" _And how did they do all of it without us knowing about it?_ " Qrow continued. " _Hey, sunshine, any ideas?_ "

Only static filled the void for half a minute before the surly spymaster was too annoyed to stay quiet. " _Hey, sunshine? Jaune? Annoying blond bastard 2.0, I'm talking to you!_ "

Jaune sighed, before pocketing the dog tags. " I'm a little out of it Qrow. We lost some guys today."

Jaune's eyes naturally trailed to the still corpse of Lt. Church. ' I'll have to radio in some body bags' he thought dully, ' and send some letters to the family. It's the least I can do."

" _Jaune._ " Winter said sympathetically, unsure how to continue.

" _Save it, Winter._ " Qrow said, in an uncharacteristically sober tone. " _It never gets any easier, does it?_ "

" No." Jaune said. " It doesn't." His gaze shifted to the crimson pool in the center of the compound, which had finally stopped growing. In fact... it was shrinking.

" What the hell?" Jaune said, watching as the black droplets were no longer swirling randomly, as they would naturally. Instead, they were all moving in one direction, right to the body of one Carib the cannibal.

After Alban had issued the all clear, the platoon had relaxed and accepted that it really was all over. None noticed the soft cracking of bones moving back into place, or the black splotches covering what had been puncture wounds. Only Jaune saw that the eyes of Carib the Cannibal were wide, not in death, but in anticipation, like a predator ready to pounce.

" Get away from the body!" Jaune shouted. Alban, the medic, was an experience soldier, and rushed away without question. Two of the others closest to the corpse hesitated in confusion. That hesitation would cost them everything.

A fist slammed into the first one's helmet with inhuman strength, snapping his neck in an instant and sending his body careening across the cavern like a rag-doll. The second man raised his rifle a moment to late, as Carib raised him up off the ground, hand wrapped around his windpipe.

Carib's hand had a dull white glow for a few moments as the life drained from the soldier's eyes. The holes in his arm began to steam as the black spots faded. He then turned to the survivors, with a toothy grin on his face.

" Who's next?"

* * *

The men stood still, dumbstruck. All weapons were raised, but not a shot was fired. A few soldiers began moving back, step by step, not daring to take their eyes off of the madman they had felled but a few minutes before.

Jaune fired the first round, as a test more than anything else. Evergreen and Rojas followed suit, crisp pops following soft squelching sounds as their rounds hit true. Carib stood still, smiling as empty shells popped out of his back, leaving nothing but slick black mush behind.

The men stood, horrified, eyes darting to the exits, weighing their chances of escape.

" _Arc, what is happening?_ "

Carib chuckled. " This might be my favorite part. Watching the hope drain out of my prey as they realize they can't win. Right next to that rush I get when they realize they can't run, either."

" Fuck this!" One of the rookies yelled, throwing his rifle to the floor and making a beeline for the sewers. Carib leapt, ready for another meal, when he was thrown off course by a speeding hunk of flesh and metal. Shimmering white steel slammed into his face, knocking him to the ground.

Jaune stood, shield raised. " Everyone get out, now." He said severely. Immediately most of the soldiers broke, speeding to the exits without a second thought. Sarge looked at him gravely.

" Sir..."

" Let the guards out front know what's going on." Jaune said. " No one else is dying today."

The Sergeant nodded. " Yes sir."

" So, " Carib muttered as he rose back to his feet. " that's how this is going to be."

" Yeah." Jaune replied, calmly moving into stance. 'Feet forward, head high, sword and shield up...'

" No." One voice called out. Evergreen stood, rifle raised defiantly. All the other soldiers had already streamed out like they were supposed to.

" Evergreen, can't you follow orders just once?"

" Bullshit sir. Our entire platoon couldn't take this guy down. What chance do you have alone?"

Carib lunged back up at the lone soldier, before Crocea Mors lodged itself into his back and spun him in the other direction.

" I can't fight him and protect you at the same time." Jaune said coldly. " If you stay, you'll only get us both killed."

Connie froze for a second, before his eyes hardened. " Understood, Cap. Give him hell."

" _Jaune Arc, don't you dare do anything stupid!_ " rang in his ears, before he silenced his comms. He would have to focus.

" Damn, kid." Carib said as he got back to his feet once again, spitting out black bile that matched the fluid leaking down his spine. " You've got a hell of a swing."

He straightened himself out before surveying the room once more. Evergreen had just disappeared into the sewers. " And a death wish apparently." He chuckled darkly. " Fine by me."

" Not really." Jaune replied, keeping the banter going as long as possible, letting everyone put as much distance between themselves and the warehouse as possible. " I meant what I said, earlier. They'd just get in the way. If anything, they'd make you harder to kill."

Carib cocked his head. " Really?"

" Your Aura's corrupted." Jaune said cockily, trying to sound more sure of himself than he was. " It doesn't shield you. It doesn't even heal you. It just... holds you together." He smirked. " You need to steal healthy Aura to stop yourself from degrading. We can't have that."

Carib glanced at the soldier he had drained. " You figured it out that fast, eh? Clever little bastard."

He then closed the distance between them absurdly fast, moving as a blackish blur. Jaune raised his shield just in time to block Carb's fist. " Well, if you're that smart, you should know that being part Grimm has its upsides, too."

Jaune bashed his shield forward, pushing the hybrid back several steps. " That move again? Don't tell me you're a one trick pony." He flashed his canines menacingly. " That'd be so boring, and I like to play with my food."

' I can't let him touch me.' He thought, moving cautiously, while Carib circled him, feinting and then pouting, looking for an open. ' Corrupted or not, his Aura has to have a limit. If I can exhaust it, I should be able to kill him.' Jaune sidestepped and sliced Crocea Mors through the man's arm, severing it right above the elbow. Carib let a feral scream as he collapsed. 'Trouble is, I don't know how many hits he can take.'

Carib rose, his face the same shade of white as the armor of a Beowulf, his eyes just as hungry, his maw just as menacing. Sweat and drool dribbled down his face.

" Did that hurt?" Jaune asked.

" Oh, it's excruciating." Carib moaned. " Would you like me to show you?"

Jaune charged, slashing Carib across the chest. " Thanks but no thanks actually. I've had my ass whooped enough times to get the idea."

Carib kicked at his legs, and Jaune jumped back, barely avoiding the strike.

The cannibal smiled. "What, you won't even let me touch you?" His chest wound made a deep sucking sound as he spoke, but he pretended not to notice. " Then you really do understand."

He jumped back to his feet, before unleashing a flurry of blows that Jaune could barely block. ' Shield, sword, armor, shield.'

" Let's play a little game." Carib said, grimacing from the agony of his condition. " I call it Tag: for keeps."

Jaune's eyes widened as a whooshing sound came from behind. A black tendril shot out from the dismembered arm, going right for his exposed back. Jaune leapt out of the way, creating an open. Carib took it.

Jaune stood back up as the hybrid charged in the opposite direction. ' He wasn't going for me?'

Jaune hesitantly followed the man to his target. He couldn't let Carib escape into the crowded streets of Kuchinashi. He'd kill dozens of civilians in the chaos, at least. No, he had to stop him, here and now.

Jaune's eyes widened as he came to a stop. He was just in time to see the look of shock and betrayal in Hui's face as his boss shoved his hand into his neck.

' What is he doing here?' Jaune thought. He had been with the men... bound and helpless. 'They must have left him behind in the confusion. Damn it!'

A much brighter glow emanated from his hands as he drained the last of his Lieutenant's soul. The light faded from Hui's eyes as his the taut rope around him relaxed ever so slightly.

Carib stood up, not a scratch on him. Then he scrubbed his tongue, trying to wash a bad taste out of his mouth. " Bland!" He spat. " Bland and bitter! Oh well." He sighed. " Beggars can't be choosers." He looked at Jaune. " I do hope you'll be more of a treat."

Jaune drew Lancer and fired. Now, more than ever, it was important that he keep his distance. Carib was revitalized, and he would have an advantage at close range. All it would take is one slip and it would be over.

The man howled with pain and laughter as the rounds pierced his hide. He charged at Jaune, ignoring the streaking hot metal and dust headed his way.

Jaune jumped out of the man's way and climbed up to the top of a nearby supply crate. Carib grinned and then tried to follow, before several bursts slammed into him and knocked him back to the ground. All the hours of training were paying off. Jaune's aim was true.

A pattern began to emerge. Jump, shoot, fall, jump, shoot, fall. Carib was never quite fast enough to get arounds Jaune's shots, but none of Jaune's salvos could do much more than keep the man off the high ground. His clip would run out soon.

Luckily, or so it seemed, just before it ran dry, Carib stopped trying to get up, an instead ran for one of the corpses of his men. Jaune took the opportunity to reload, wondering what the hybrid could be planning. ' None of those bodies have aura to drain.'

His question was answered as he heard the familiar note of a dust round singing just past his ear. Carib held a cleaver and a smoking dust pistol. " Two can play at this game, Hunter."

Jaune felt several rounds slam into his Aura, knocking him back. He leapt to the next crate to avoid the incoming fire, landing just as Carib pounced onto his old stronghold. He looked at Jaune, eyes parallel to his own, before playfully running the cleaver over his neck. Jaune shot him in the chest for his trouble.

Carib had taken away a powerful advantage, but Lancer still had a better range than the second rate small arms the street gangs of Kuchinashi used. He just had to spend much more of his time running, keeping the distance between the two as great as possible.

The next few moments were a blur. He'd run and leap and spin, trying to build up a few seconds of a lead before turning and burning it all to get off a few shots off. More often than he could count, he had just dodged a sweeping blade or a close up shot, and then spent the next minute trying to regain some distance, death right on his heels.

So much of his time was spent hopping from crate to crate, swinging from the rafters, spinning and weaving around his foe's attacks, where every act of balance meant a few extra seconds to plan, to escape, to win.

'Really wish I was a Faunus right now.' Jaune thought dizzily as he narrowly avoided stumbling to the floor and certain death. ' Like Blake, Velvet, or Sun. Having some extra dexterity or a tail for balance would be REAL handy.' At least his motion sickness wasn't acting up too badly, he thought as he turned for another parting shot.

All he heard was a dull click as he pulled the trigger. Lancer was out of ammo. Again. 'How in the hell am I going to get enough time to reload it?' He thought, as he leapt up once more, just out of Carib's reach. He grabbed a rafter with his free hand while he considered his options.

' I could pull out Arrow, but it's reserves won't last very long either, not to mention the smaller-' " NO!" He shouted in panic, as a hand wrapped it's way around his ankle. He had taken to long to swing and let go, and now the extra weight was dragging him down, straining his grip. He didn't want to wait until the hand broke through his clothes and started draining his life away. With a desperate kick he shook off Carib, who fell flat on his face. The force of the move threw off his precarious balance and he fell to the nearest crate, knocking the wind out of him as he landed on his back.

' Calm down Jaune.' He thought, collecting himself. ' You have your weapons, you have your training, you still have most of your Aura.' He swung around, raising Lancer, as a re-oriented Carib charged at him with the cleaver.

Before they met, the hybrid stopped in his tracks. He let out a bloodcurdling scream as the black fluid began writhing around within him, bulging out of his skin, eyes bugging out as his body futilely tried to resist the foreign parasite. Jaune took the opportunity to try and change clips, but right before he had the chance Carib regained control of himself and lunged again. Jaune parried with the saw at the bottom of Lancer's barrel.

" So part of you is still human." He muttered. " And it can't stand what it's become."

"You talk too much." Carib growled, before Jaune flipped on the chainsaw and broke through the cleaver, the reddish metal giving a shrill whine as it broke. Lancer burrowed through Carib's shoulder, red blood, white bone, black fluid and yellow bile giving way to its shredding teeth. The saw made its way halfway down Carib's right ribcage before stopping, jammed and incased in the quickly solidifying black essence of Grimm. Jaune revved up the engine, desperately trying to break through, when he saw Carib raising a pistol.

He raised up a leg and kicked the gun out of the hybrid's hands. At this Carib let out another dull laugh. " You think I care about the weapon?" He said incredulously. " I've always preferred a more hands on approach." He then wrapped both hands around the barrel and squeezed.

Lancer was designed by Ruby Rose herself, and built from the toughest metals and strongest composites the Kingdoms could make. It shattered like glass.

The frame was twisted and bent, with two dozen pieces littering the ground between them, broken beyond all repair. " Ruby's gonna kill me." Jaune muttered as he reached for another weapon.

Carib was faster than him, wrapping a wide palm around Jaune's face, completely unperturbed by the broken chainsaw lodged in his chest.

" Tell her to get in line."

* * *

"We have to keep moving!" Winter shouted, pushing her way past the ever thickening crowd, holding Qrow at her side as they made whatever progress they could.

The two had picked up some of Alpha's comm chatter, and none of it was good. Carib had been shot, gotten back up, and killed 5 members of the platoon in about as many seconds. 'And Jaune is all alone with him.' She thought furiously. When seconds counted, she and Qrow were minutes away.

The two of them had only stopped moving when Jaune had said the battle was over. That was a stupid mistake. She should have foreseen this, that there was no way a junior specialist and a group of grunts could take out someone like Carib so easily.

She shouldn't have let her guard down, and trusted her subordinate, when every minute was precious and there were innumerable people blocking her direction. In the beginning she and Qrow had jumped from roof top to roof top, but they were close enough to the fire that smoke was becoming a major hazard. The two of them went past flaming buildings and those trying to deal with the damage at a snails pace. There was no other option, the warehouse was on the other side of the inferno, and going around would have taken longer. They'd have to find a hole the control teams had punched in the blaze. Otherwise...

" Where do you think you're going?" a Soldier asked, stepping in front of her. " In case you can't tell, this is a restricted area. You're supposed to go AWAY from the fire." He said very slowly, as if explaining something to a small, dim child. " Got it?"

"...Do you know who I am?" She asked harshly, hating that she had to pull that card. ' Of all the days not to be recognized.

" No." The man said, nervously. " Should I?"

" Winter Schnee, Atlesian Special Forces." She said quickly. " I need to get past this fire. Their is a highly wanted criminal on the verge of escape and my best man's life is at risk."

" Cool it Ms... Schnee? Hey, you wouldn't happen to be related to the dust mining guy, would you?"

" Yes!" She said, exasperated." Not that that's particularly relevant. Now, could you please tell me where the fires have been quelled so my associate and I can cross?!"

" The fire has been quelled..." he began " nowhere."

"Why not?" She said. " It's been over an hour since the bombs went off."

"'Why not?' She says. 'Over an hour.' She says. Listen Ms. Schnee, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you are certainly not an expert firefighter. WE are not expert firefighters. Every man the city has to spare, and every bullhead, has been repurposed to try to slow this thing down! And you know why? Because this who damned city is a powder keg and it will burn to ash if we don't stop it!" He gestured to the roaring blaze behind him "We have no way of getting through, we have put out next to none of it, and unless you have enough ice dust on you to freeze all of downtown there isn't anything you or I can do about it. Capiche?"

Winter tucked a stray strand of hair back in place. There were to many stray strands, it wasn't like her. She had to stay calm.

"Get me a bullhead, now."

" Can't you hear ma'am?" The man said. " Every bullhead in the city is in the sky, occupied. We don't have one to spare."

"I'm commandeering one." She said loudly.

" No can do." She said. " I've got orders straight from the higher ups."

" I am a higher up!" She shouted.

" Really?" He said sarcastically. "Never heard of you."

Winter didn't believe it. That smirk on his lips was one of malice, not ignorance. There wasn't a soldier, rookie or not, who hadn't heard her name at least once. She was reminded of that every day. Some pissed off draftee had caught an undercover officer, inconspicuous and out of uniform, with no proof of their identity, and decided to play dumb. She couldn't prove it, and more to the point he knew she couldn't prove it, so he was free to do as he wished, and he was taking out his frustration on her. Because of some petty little grievance he had, he was trying to get in her way, playing with a man's life.

Winter saw red as she reached for her saber. Qrow stayed her hand. He gave her a slight shake of the head. That smug little man 'Corporal Brown' she saw, reading his twice shined badge loudly and proudly centered on his left breast, was smirking at her. " For the last time, miss. No can do. Whoever this guy your worried about is, he's not worth the city."

" Where's you supervisor?" She asked acidly. The man blanched. " Sergeant Dexter, he's five blocks down, trying to coordinate with the actual firefighters."

" Take me to him, now!" Winter barked. Qrow grabbed her shoulder lightly. " We have to go around."

"There's no time." She said simply. " We'll never make it. At this rate a bullhead is our only option."

Qrow paused, deep in thought, before nodding. " You'd never make it." He agreed. " I, on the other hand..."

Suddenly Qrow escaped into the crowd, quickly disappearing. " Qrow?!" Winter said incredulously, realizing that she was all alone.

* * *

Each second was an eternity. _13... 14..._ Jaune felt his strength slowly ebbing as his life flashed before him. His youngest sister burning his birthday cake, getting chewed out by Oobleck, the last time he saw Pyrrha, snatching a few hours of troubled sleep during the worst days of Mistral, that day at the airstrip...

" I can't die." He said, vaguely conscious of trying to pry off the brightly glowing hand melded to his face. " Must... break... free." _17... 18..._

" I'm impressed, kid." Carib said said sadistically. " Most people would be bone dry by now. But it's useless. I'm not one to balk at an all you can eat buffet."

Jaune's hands fell at his side, limp. He couldn't move. He couldn't even speak. All he could see between those glowing white fingers was the face of Carib the Cannibal, skin glowing and unblemished as a newborn's, yet still hungry, always hungry, sapping away the last of his strength. _24... 25..._

' Sorry Yang.' He thought. ' Sorry Pyrrha, Ren, Nora, Ruby, Weiss... Winter... Winter... Winter!' His mind was grasping at straws, furiously trying to survive. Winter was the key to getting out of this. Something they had done this morning... how was he supposed to focus when all his Aura was concentrated in one place...

'That's it!' He thought, all dullness being swept away as he focused on one thought. ' All the Aura in my body is being concentrated at my forehead. If I could just control some of it...'

"Hey asshole." he whispered, nearly inaudible. " You want my Aura so bad? Take it."

The glow on Carib's hand intensified, lighting up the room like a roaring sun, blinding him. A massive force blew the man back, knocking the surprised hybrid off the crate and onto the floor below. Jaune rose shakily to his feet.

Concentrate you Aura to a small part of your body and then send it out to repel. A basic control exercise. " I hope that did the trick." Jaune said, panting heavily. " Because I'm not sure I can do it again." His Aura was almost shot. ' A few more seconds...' No time to dwell on that.

Carib started to get up again, raising his head off the ground. " That's a new one." Jaune leapt off the crate before Carib could rise, pulled Arrow out of its holster and hurriedly emptied its entire clip into the creature's eyes. The man's eye sockets were reduced to ovals of red and black jello as Jaune holstered the pistol and drew Crocea Mors.

Maybe it would be enough. Even if he wasn't quite Human anymore, Carib may not be able to regenerate his own brain.

Alas, it was not to be. " That's going to do a number on my childhood memories." A voice gurgled. Jaune swung furiously, cleaving the man in two. He kept swinging, up and down, left and right, trying to do as much damage as possible, to tear Carib apart faster than he could get back together. The Grimm spawn slowly rose in spite of Jaune's pummeling and began swinging back.

Jaune dodged his blows effortlessly. Carib was either blinded or severely handicapped, and disoriented. Jaune moved with the clarity of an expert swordsman and the fury of a cornered animal. One purpose drove him forward, adrenaline rushing, and blood singing. The will to survive, against all odds.

Carib was stronger, but he was slower, more clumsy, even when possessing all of his faculties. Jaune wasn't the runt of Beacon anymore, he was Captain Arc of the Atlesian Specialists, and he carved his name into Carib's memory, striking three blows for every one he parried. He moved with a desperate elegance, no superfluous step, no opportunity wasted.

For what seemed to be long, hellish hours, Jaune battled the Hydra that was Carib. He tore him limb from limb again and again, and then slashed at the tendrils that emerged from the broken body, blocking and bashing in all directions, never wavering.

Finally, Jaune paused, sword raised, though unable to strike. His arms were on fire, his frenetic strikes taking everything he had left.

" Was it enough?" He whispered, gazing at the pool of red and black surrounding the strewn flesh of Carib the Cannibal.

He recoiled in horror as slowly, but surely, the pieces began to sew back together.

" Not quite." The voice gurgled in a wet, sickly tone. " That Aura of your can take quite the pounding, when placed in the right hands." Slowly the mass took the shape of a gross caricature of a man, features twisted and misshapen, with more slick Grimm hide than skin.

" Still..." It drawled hungrily. " You came awfully close." The creature formed what was close as it could get to an intact body, then stopped. It's eyes were still horribly maimed.

'He can't see me.' Jaune thought suddenly. He did everything in his power to quiet his breathing, hoping the monster couldn't hear his pounding heart.

The monster waved its head around, growling. " Well, aren't you going to let me finish it? Where are you."

Jaune allowed himself a small smirk. ' He said he's at his limit too. Big mistake. If I can catch my breathe for a few minutes, it's over.'

He looked at the door to the front, and the passage that would lead him to the sewers. But he couldn't leave, not yet. He had a job to do. His eyes locked on two steel doors with shining metal handers a few inches apart. 'That must be the door the to cellar.' He chose his target, and slowly, silently, began moving toward it, away from the gelatinous mass of Grimm.

" How does it feel chipping away at an opponent so less skilled than you are, over and over, when they're hopelessly outclassed, only for them to just keep getting back up?" The monster taunted, hoping to elicit a reaction from him. " Doesn't feel good, does it?"

Jaune ignored him, moving forward as Carib changed tacts. " You want to know what it's like being part Grimm!" He shouted. " It's like having a voice shouting in the back of your head every time you look at a human being, telling you to rip, shred, maim, mutilate, to make them suffer 'til their last breath." He laughed maniacally. " In other words, basically the same as before."

" Only I don't just kill for the fun of it. That's where my 'human' base kicks in. I kill for purpose. In some of the pre-Kingdom cultures, men would devour the corpses of their foes, trying to gain the strength of their enemies. Pretty fucked up, right? But I can do something much better. I don't absorb Aura, brat. I eat souls. I feel every emotion, every dream , every fear, every passion that makes a man who he is as I rip him apart."

'Halfway there.' Jaune thought silently, strength slowly returning. ' Just another minute.'

" They say a killer knows his victim more than the sucker's own mother. Because while she brings him into this world, they take him out. They see what plays on his face the moment before he dies, the climax, the finale! And I... I can taste it. Once you've eaten as many souls as I have boy, you recognize certain tastes. I taste guilt. Guilt and shame."

Jaune stopped 10 feet from the cellar doors. " Shame at being the weakest of everyone close to you, eclipsed by your family, out shined by your friends, hating yourself because you aren't strong enough to hate anyone else, always struggling to get better, to prove yourself. Guilt for lying to yourself and everyone around you that you could actually make a difference, knowing that no matter how hard you try, you will fail."

'Almost there.' Jaune thought, gritting his teeth. ' Just a few more feet.' "You've gotten quite a few of your friends killed already, haven't you? Sweetheart too, right? And you feel guilty about having new friends, a new little crush, none of whom you deserve and all of whom are not long for this world? Who you'd give your pathetic life to buy a few minutes for? I've seen it all before, in ingredients, but never as a whole. Never quite in that saccharine mixture. Such a sickeningly sweet little morsel you make, Hunter."

The monster chuckled again, a grotesque, rumbling sound. " And I know something else. Everyone in this pathetic excuse for a Kingdom will die before the year is out. The soil of Anima will run thick with blood, with the rest of the world soon to follow."

Jaune quietly opened the cellar doors as the voice called out, ever closer. " Salem has shown me many things."

Jaune heard the approaching footsteps and raised his shield in the nick of time; the impact almost knocked him into the cellar. Carib stood before him, grinning that awful grin.

" Always one step ahead, boy. But you've miscalculated. I'm part Grimm. I don't need to see you. I can feel you. Your fear, your rage, your hatred, are all as clear to me as the moon in the night sky."

"Then why let me run?" Jaune asked.

"I already told you." Carib said impatiently. " My favorite part of the chase is when my prey sees hope just escape it's grasp. Run? There's no where to run." He laughed menacingly. " Hide in the cellar? You can't hide from death."

"... who said anything about trying to hide?"

If Carib's eyes were still intact they would have bulged out of their sockets. He felt Jaune's flickering Aura sweep from his front to his back as the boy spun around and slammed his balm into Carib's back, and he felt the last pulse of energy shoot him down into the cellar.

He heard the dull thump of his body against the hard floor. Then he heard a dull 'ping, ping, ping' as a small sphere followed him down. He heard the slam of the metal doors behind him, and he heard the ringing boom that followed.

Jaune braced the doors the best way he could. He lodged Arrow between its bars. The distance between Arrow's grip and blade was just a fraction of an inch longer than the distance from one handle to another on the cellar doors. It had served him well, and it would fell out one more before it was done.

He heard several loud bangs on the doors after the first explosion, but they held. The doors were solid metal, well made, and Arrow was expertly crafted. They would hold long enough for the growing fire to engulf even the heat resistant containers of the Dust downstairs, setting off a crescendo of force that would end in the warehouse collapsing into rubble and flame. Carib would be vaporized before he was crushed.

The first wave of explosions rocked the building, that of the smaller, poorly made containers. Jaune got up and forced himself to limp to the door. " Just a little bit more... almost there." That final push had taken the very last drop of his Aura. It was a miracle he could still move, a miracle he intended to exploit to the fullest.

All he had to do was outpace the building's demise. Each step closer to the door was a step closer to freedom. He heard another rumble, and a few of the metal bracings began to fall. The lights had gone off, and it was after dark. The only source of light was the fire in the distance. More and more rubble began to fall, as he barely dodged bits of steel and concrete. The crumbling of the building had drowned out the thumping on the door, and so many dark forms were crashing around his as he neared the door that he failed to notice one more.

* * *

Winter's bullhead had just landed when the warehouse went down. It had taken her half an hour to find the person with the proper clearance, bully them into giving her a pilot, and to navigate through the smoke to the position.

She immediately hailed the surviving members of Alpha platoon. Sgt. Rojas was the first to reply. " _We had a patrol around the surrounding blocks after we were forced out of the warehouse. Sewers too._ " He said.

" _No sign of Carib. Or the Captain, ma'am._ " He said.

Winter was silent for the length of a clock minute. Her only student had been killed, Qrow was nowhere to be found, and a quarter of the city lay in ashes. Then she forced herself forward. " Tell all survivors of Alpha to meet at 2-3-5-7 for pick up in 15 minutes."

" _Yes ma'am._ "

" We're being redeployed. There's be a lot to do tonight."

" _Understood, ma'am._ "

Winter did what she always did. She buried herself in her work, ignoring the concerned glances of her pilot . There were damage reports to read, strategies to adjust, superiors to call. Almost enough to make her too busy to feel. Almost.

The mood was somber when the bullhead touched down. The fourteen survivors of the twenty were all lined up, with gaps in their formation conspicuously present.

Winter sighed, before giving her command. She was the undisputed ranking officer, and they wouldn't move without her order.

"Everyone onto the bullhead." She said sternly. " Command just radio'd in. They want every man we can spare to stop the flames from spreading further west."

" I thought they blew up Command?" One soldier murmured wearily.

"Orders are straight from Mistral." Winter said evenly. " Ironwood himself is stepping in."

As the men shuffled on bored she turned back to the crumbling wreckage of the nightmare that had been a warehouse. It was supposed to be the cakewalk, the easy mission. "I'm sorry." She whispered, as a final tribute.

" Room for two more?" A cheeky voice asked. Winter whipped around and saw a man with black hair and a grey overcoat holding up a boy with messy blonde hair.

" How did you..." She began, before stopping, unable to control herself.

"I found him a few feet from the door before the whole thing came down. Had to drag him out myself. What kind of moron blows up a building he's still in?"

" I could've made it." Jaune huffed out. He looked exhausted.

Qrow scoffed. " That's a real funny way of saying thank you." He shook his head. " Even if you did, what was your plan? To pass out in front of a burning building until someone found you."

"Basically." Jaune admitted.

" By the brothers. Winter, is this what you've had to deal with for the past few months? Because, if so, you have my deepest sympathies."

Winter had stayed silent. Her right eye was covered by her bangs, and she spend an inordinate amount of time adjusting several strands just above her left. Her when she was done, her eyes were just watery enough to be explained away by the smoke.

Qrow's arm was wrapped around Jaune's left shoulder. Winter moved to snake round his right. The duo then proceeded to carry him up to the ship.

A few of the men began cheering as they saw their Captain climb aboard, but stopped once they saw him wincing from the noise. Winter immediately began scolding him as they laid him down in an open seat.

" You sent your men away and fought Carib one on one? What on Earth were you thinking?!"

" Had to... would have killed them all... and me." Jaune said woozily.

Winter sighed in understanding and profound relief. He had been placed in a horrible situation, and, try as she might, she couldn't have found a way to handle it any better.

" Just try not to make this a habit. As a full Specialist, you're going to have to make tough calls, and there won't always be someone there to save you from now on."

"... what?" Jaune said, yawning.

" She's trying to say that you're getting a promotion, sunshine."

" Oh... I'm fine...sis..." Jaune said, barely conscious. He turned to Qrow, eyes half shut. "... thanks..." he said.

" Don't mention it." Qrow muttered, as the boy's eyes closed. " We're even now. Besides, every woman in my life would have my head if I let you die. _Every_ woman."

Qrow's eyes narrowed as he finished his thought. " I think I just remembered why I don't like you."

Jaune was past the point of bantering back. He looked much younger when he was asleep. Too exhausted to feel anything but serenity, his face had the quality of a newborn babe. Winter felt an unfamiliar tug of maternal affection, and was careful not to jostle him as they flew.

When they touched down, she pulled aside one of the new recruits. "Private."

"Evergreen, ma'am." He replied quickly.

" Take Captain Arc somewhere safe. He's not getting up for a while." She paused. " Make sure he gets plenty of rest." She saw, through his visor, a pair of warm brown eyes, giving her a solemn stare and a nod, as he gentle picked up his charge.

" Yes ma'am." He said, and Winter had absolute certainty that he would carry out this order to the letter. She smiled slightly, a weight off her shoulders, before turning to Qrow.

He shrugged, before the pair of the broke off from the others to combat the blaze. " Out of the frying pan," Qrow called out sarcastically,"into the fire."

* * *

Arthur Watts liked to keep his laboratories nice and bright. Fluorescent lights, white, anti-septic surfaces, and cool clear metal all coming together in a triumph of the orderliness of the human mind. Such comforts were the few he allowed himself when engrossed in an enquiry into any subject that caught his fancy.

Which is why he always felt a profound sense of discomfort when he walked into the Doctor's lab. The room was always dark, with grime and grit in every corner, and the only illumination being it's ever present occupant's bright red eye.

Never the less, Watts was never one to shirk his duty, so with the diligence he prided himself on, he prepared himself for the worst.

It took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the dim light, and what he saw was rather unpleasant. The Doctor was bent over a fresh cadaver, poking and prodding at its internal organs with an instrument that featured in ever Iatrophobes worst nightmares.

" The Central Nervous System is too resistant to foreign contaminants in most subjects, and injections into other organ systems result in trauma and death. Perhaps a smaller dosage..."

" Am I interrupting something?" He asked sternly.

" Of course." The doctor replied tersely. He stood up as the corpses kidneys began to shrivel and steam. " Nothing groundbreaking though, just confirming some old hypotheses. You wanted to see me?" He asked, bored.

" Your prototype is dead." Watts deadpanned.

" Oh, I know." The Doctor said evenly. " I've read the reports."

Watts arched an eyebrow." You don't seemed particularly concerned."

"Nor should I be." The man replied cooly. " The prototype was only partly compatible. The Grimm essence exaggerated his psychopathic tendencies, made him difficult to control directly, and caused him extreme bursts of pain. But his strength, speed, endurance and aggression were far beyond human capacity. Over all a very informative test case."

" We're not funding tests. We need results."

The doctor rolled his eye. " Touchy, Watts. If I'm not mistaken, my prototype crippled crucial intelligence operations in Kuchinashi, oversaw the transfer of tons of much needed munitions, and severely damaged Kuchinashi's defenses, leaving a massive vulnerability in Mistral's southern flank. Not to mention that I have already acquired several more suitable subjects for phase II."

He flashed a vicious, mocking smile. " It seems I am not the one that needs to produce results, Watts."

Watts slammed his fist on the table. " None of that would be possible if I hadn't found you, brought you here, given you a lab and a budget, and your precious subjects." He paced meaningfully, walking up in front of his subordinate, towering over the smaller Doctor. " And none of it matters. This entire 'war' is just a farce. I don't care what you've done to their defenses if you can't get what our Mistress wants."

The Doctor preened. Watts' scowled. He was one of the few who was beyond Watts' ability to intimidate.

"I'm well aware of your valuable contributions to my work. I'm also aware that my proudest achievements are only a distraction as far as you're concerned. I've reconciled myself to my lot in life." He casually began sharpening a knife, before remembering it was still wet and wiping the gore off with a wet rag.

"I'm also _very_ much aware of what happens to those who stop being useful. Poor Leo gave up so much under your pressure, and did a great deal for you. Of course, after he gave you what you wanted, you were more than happy to throw him to the beowolves. I don't know what you're worried about, though, Watts." The Doctor said nonchalantly. " You've given Salem one more relic than anyone else."

"Menagerie will fall to Belladonna's forces in days." Watts said. " And that means every excess soldier and Huntsmen tied up on that front will be redeployed in a matter of weeks. Where do you suppose that will be? What effect do you suppose that will have on our operations?"

"More sheep to the slaughter." The Doctor said cheekily. " The trouble with you Watts," he began, " is that you always insist on subtlety and subterfuge. It's served you well, don't get me wrong." The Doctor chuckled. " The Relic of Creation, and the most destructive front of the war, all won under your watch. You have done extraordinarily well for yourself."

The cyborg put his knife down. " But there's no need to take a scalpel to a problem when a bomb will do just as well. You have an army of disparate thugs, my delightful experiments, Salem's fiercest Grimm, and enough Dust to level half a Kingdom. A Kingdom of with two of your precious Relics waiting to be snatched. And when millions of lives hang in the balance, those who wield those Relics will have no choice but to use them. Then, you can strike, and all you desire will be yours. Everything is going according to plan."

Watts gripped a nearby table tightly in his hands, cracked the wood as he contemplated. Then he gave his companion a soft nod.

" Alright. How many more specimens do you need before phase II is fully operational?"

"Three dozen, at least."

Watts grimaced, but said nothing. " Alright. I'll see what I can do." With his business done, Watts hastily made for the door.

" Good day to you Watts." The Doctor said absentmindedly.

" Good day to you, Merlot." He replied curtly, before thinking of the progress made today, and what was still to come. " A good day indeed."

* * *

A _lright... this took a bit longer than expected. I got caught up in some awful writer's block and just kept putting this off. Then, finally, I had a free day and stayed up 'til four in the morning hammering it out. For some reason my productivity is inversely correlated with my schedule's convenience, so there's that. Just wanted to touch base with everyone who's been waiting._

 _On a brighter note, the sequel to this story will premiere on the 22nd of September, a bit before the start of Volume 5. I have a strong idea of where I want it to go, and I just need to put pen to paper. Hopefully I'll already have several buffer chapters before the premiere, so if I get such an awful case of a block or something comes up I can still do weekly updates._

 _Without giving to much away, the sequel's time skip from 'Kuchinashi' will be much shorter than the skip between 'Hung Jury' and 'Kuchinashi', and that story will be longer than both of them combined, if all goes as anticipated. Thank you all for your patience and support._


End file.
